Nostalgia's a Bitch
by Don'tWaitForLife.FightForIt
Summary: The Pack is at their wits' end, tensions high and friendships strained. Their enemies growing stronger each passing minute. When three gods intervene, can they learn from their pasts to forge a stronger future together? - I.e. the characters watch the show, AU though because Stiles is a girl. Fem!Stiles. DISCONTINUED Sorry...
1. Chapter 1

**1.**

She hasn't slept a wink in the past forty eight hours, and yet sleep continues to evade her; it doesn't matter that her body is worn to the point of exhaustion, numb and sore from her battles - her mind continues to restlessly replay the events of the past few days… the past few weeks really.

Ever since _he_ arrived.

It doesn't matter that she was right all along, she just keeps asking herself where she had gone wrong. She'd been so sure she could stay a step ahead of Theo, just because she saw through his wall of bullshit. But he won. He got what he wanted. He'd weaseled his way into their pack, and sown seeds of discord and mistrust among them.

Stiles asks herself if being honest about Donovan from the start would have helped. But then she remembers the way Scott looked at her, in his right hand her wrench with Donovan's blood dried on it. It's no mystery to her how it fell into his possession - and there's no doubt in her mind that he didn't hear the real story, her side of the story. Because he'd already made his decision. And Stiles doesn't know what hurts more: the fact that he rejected her and couldn't find it in himself to forgive her - the girl who's been his best friend, stuck by him through everything, sacrificed and suffered just as much as he has without the luxury of his enhanced healing - or the fact that he chose a stranger over her, that he wasn't even willing to listen to her.

In the end she supposes it doesn't matter.

She could care less about him at the moment; all that mattered was her dad. He'd still not woken from the surgery - the second in less than twenty four hours. But he was finally stable; Melissa had said it would take a few days up to week for his respiratory distress to resolve. But he'd be fine. He'd survive. Stiles could see it in his face; his complexion was clearer, his breathing easier; the bruising would take some time fade, but it would eventually fade. And yet it still hurt to look at him, seeing him like this, with wires and IVs and monitors attached to him. She closes her eyes and tries to will away the dark thoughts, the anger and the guilt and the absolute craving to shed blood that she knows makes her more of a monster than the others.

She imagines the green grass, the cool autumn breeze; she recalls the fresh dirt that clung to her knees and her pretty black frock on _that day_. Her mind really is a cruel place - she'd realised that after the Nogitsune incident. She feels a hand on her shoulder but it takes her a moment to realise she isn't imagining this. No, there is a very real, very tangible hand grasping her shoulder. Lifting her head from the soft bed sheets, her gaze follows the arm back to the man lying there, her eyes meeting his. They're tired but sparkling with life. "It's okay Stiles, you've still got me." And maybe, maybe she's frozen in silence, questioning whether this is real or not - because those are the same words he'd used _that day_ , eight years ago. But then he squeezes her arm again, and his grip is sure and gentle, albeit a little weak, and he's smiling at her…

His face blurs a little, but it's only because of the tears, but they're tears of relief, tears of joy. Noah raises the hand resting on her shoulder, gently cupping his daughter's face and brushing the tears away; the last time he'd seen her, she'd been crying too, but her expression had been morphed in nothing but sorrow and heartache as she'd cradled his bleeding figure. He never wants to see that look on her face again; he knows it's wishful thinking when they lead the lives they do, but he prays to God that she'll never experience hurt like that again, least of all because of him.

She chuckles breathily, her eyes glistening with tears but that's okay, because he's alive. "I'm making you a big fat kale and celery smoothie when we get home."

"Oh God, are you trying to kill me?"

She laughs again and it's like music to his ears.

Stiles manages six hours of sleep, mostly due to Melissa threatening to drug her with sedatives if she doesn't. The nurse can't however convince Stiles to leave her father's side, so she settles for the somewhat comfortable armchair in the corner. Her dreams aren't exactly pleasant, but she doesn't wake up kicking and screaming so she calls it a win; the rumbling of her severely starved stomach is the perpetrator of her awakening. Stumbling out of the chair and onto the floor, she quickly looks up gladdened that her clumsiness hasn't woken her dad. Quietly, Stiles shuffles out of the room, coming to a stop at the sight of a pair of the werewolf on the bench across from her; the corners of her lips tug upwards only slightly. She was angry at him only a few days ago, but after everything that's happened since, she's starting to realise that her grudge - while not entirely unwarranted - had perhaps gone on long enough and her anger was beginning to wane.

"Stiles?" Now that voice, isn't one she's ecstatic to hear. Not right now.

Scott watches Stiles carefully, noting the way she'd tensed when he'd said her name, and the way she reluctantly meets his gaze, a look in her eye that absolutely kills him; she'd had that same look when she'd held a gun to him and shot him in the shoulder. Subconsciously he rubs at them spot, noticing the tiny flicker of guilt in her eye at the action. Crossing her arms over her chest, she ask, "What are you doing here?"

He raises the bag in his hand. "I brought you breakfast."

"I'm not hungry." It's a lie. But it's not her heart that gives it away, it's her stomach rumbling. She covers her stomach, shooting it a look of utter betrayal before looking back at him.

"Sounds like you're hungry," he tries to jest, but she doesn't take to it and he feels his grin slip away.

"I'm on a diet."

Scott quirks his brows. "A diet?" Because in all the time he's known her, Stiles has never really been one of those girls who's overly self-conscious of her body image, not that she has anything to worry. Sure she may be like a sister to him, but even Scott can admit that she's pretty attractive, especially since Lydia and Allison sunk their claws into her wardrobe back in sophomore year.

"Yes, a diet."

"So what you skip breakfast now?"

"Yes."

"What about lunch?"

"That too."

"Dinner?"

"... I'm fasting."

"Fasting?"

"Yes, Scott. Fasting. Giving up food. It's supposed to be spiritually enlightening."

"How is starving yourself enlightening?"

"I don't know. It was the only the excuse I could think of to end this conversation, but clearly you're not taking the hint," she snaps at him. Yeah, he's a little slow on the take, but he does catch on. He'd be an idiot not to, although Scott had hoped that helping her find Noah might have earned him some brownie points. Evidently it was too much to hope for. Scott's not sure what his expression is, though he can imagine he probably looks like a kicked puppy, because the hard look in her eye falters again but only fleetingly.

She tries to turn away and retreat back inside the room, but he won't let her. Despite her shooting him last time, Scott still reaches out for her again. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Well I'm fine-"

"No you're not." They're glaring at each other; well no, she's glaring at him with a level ferocity and irritation that would make Derek Hale proud, but Scott doesn't waver. Which Stiles hates. She hates that he's looking at her like he cares. Of course he cares… but things are too messy between them right now, and she can't deal with it. She doesn't want to. Not right now. Not when she's still hurt and guilt-ridden, not when she knows that he still believes whatever lies Theo fed him regarding the events that led up to Donovan's death. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She shakes her head. "I'm not getting into this with you right now."

"Stiles, please just talk to me," he begs her.

"There is nothing to talk about, Scott," she snaps. Rather loudly because a few passersby look at them oddly, muttering as they go on about lovers' spat, which only makes Stiles roll her eyes and cringe at how predictable people can be. Lowering her voice, she says, "It happened. That's all that matters."

His grip on her arm tightens, but not painfully, but more like it's a desperate plea. "No it isn't."

"That's not what you thought the other night," she replies bitterly.

Scott winces at her words, recalling the way she'd begged him, not unlike he's doing with her now, pleading with him for help. In retrospect, she'd looked so lost and afraid; she was looking to him, her Alpha, for guidance. And he'd sent her away. Swallowing down his guilt, he answers emphatically, "I made a mistake."

"No," she breathes, shaking her head a little; for a split second it gives Scott hope that maybe she'll forgive him… his hope is crushed by her next words, "I made a mistake. You made a choice." She pulls out of his grasp easily. He stares at her stony face, her expression and the look of utter betrayal etched upon her features just like it had been the night of the clinic. The hard edge to her expression wavers as the seconds quietly traipse by. Blinking away non existent tears, Stiles looks away from him, her gaze returning to her dad's sleeping figure through the doorway.

"Stiles I-"

"Should go."

"But-"

"Please, just leave." She''s pleading with him now, begging him to leave her be; that's what he gathers from the exasperated tone of her voice. She doesn't want to keep arguing with him, too exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally to do it. Scott knows he's got nothing to lose if he keeps baiting her to talk to him - he's already pushed her away from him that night at the clinic - but for now he decides to respect her wishes, despite every fibre in him telling him not to walk away from her this time. But before he can make a move, he puts one last question to her: "Just tell me something... Do you hate me?"

That gets her to look at him again. It feels like an eternity though it really only takes less than a second for an answer - "Yes," she pauses as if surprised by her own answer, but then with a steely gaze and almost indiscernible nod to herself, Stiles continues, "Yeah, I hate you. Because if I don't hate you for ruining our friendship, then I have to hate myself for ruining it. And I think that I deserve better than that." And wow, doesn't that just makes Scott feel like someone's reached inside his chest and squeezed the life out of him.

Crossing her arms, Stiles tears her gaze from Scott, fixating it once again 9n her father's slumbering figure. A silent dismissal, a final one, that Scott humbly acquiesce. He leaves the wrapped breakfast behind, offering her one last wistful look, those puppy eyes bleeding with regret as he whispers, "I'm sorry," before disappearing down the corridor.

It's not very long before the werewolf pretending to sleep through hers and Scott's conversation, finally decides to pitch his two pennies' worth. "A little harsh don't you think."

"You said the same thing, last night, when I shot him. I thought you'd have preferred this."

"I'd prefer if you both talked it out, like Scott wanted to, just then."

Stiles glares down at him, but it's more out of annoyance than fury… something she's noticed lately with the former Alpha. "Scott had an opportunity to talk the other night. He missed it."

"And now he's trying to make amends."

"There is no amending this!" she shouts in his face, pointing at her father's sleeping figure. They garner the disapproving looks of a few nurses from the station down the hall. Stiles lowers her voice, though Derek can hear still the sob caught in her throat when she speaks, "He trusted Theo more than he trusted me and now we're all suffering for it. I don't see what difference it makes now."

Derek moves to before her. "Theo thought that breaking our pack and killing Scott would automatically make him our Alpha. He underestimated us."

"I wouldn't say he entirely underestimated us," Stiles grumbled, looking at her feet.

Derek nods, sombrely, in agreement. "You're right," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "He broke us apart. But just because we won't follow him, doesn't mean he's going to stop. We need to figure out his next move."

Stiles frowns, nodding along though he can see the wheels in her mind turning. "There's also the Dread Doctors. We still have no idea why they were experimenting with chimeras. There has to be an MO."

Derek stares at her, suppressing a smile at the familiar expression on her face - her 'detective look' as Malia has dubbed it. "You'll need Scott." He realises almost immediately that he'd said the wrong thing, because her expression turns bitter, as if insulted by the notion.

"I don't need anybody," she snaps. "I'll figure it out myself."

Before she can either walk away or continue arguing, Derek's fingers wrap themselves around her left arm; with little more than a tug, he pulls her closer to him so that barely an inch separates them. It wouldn't take much to close the distance between their faces, to brush his lips against hers. It's so tempting when she's worrying them they way she does so often when she's distracted.

Stiles can feel his breath on her face, the soft heat of it warming her cold skin. Had she been cold before this? She hadn't realised. Shaking these thoughts she keeps her gaze locked on his, not wanting to think too much about the way his eyes flickered down; she tells herself he'd probably just been listening to her heart, but of course it only makes her panic that maybe she'd had a reaction to his touch. Fortunately Derek says something before she cans tart to over-analyse their proximity and her feelings (though it wouldn't be the first time she's done it, nor would it be the first time that she comes up inconclusive). It doesn't help, however, that what he says does make her feel… feelings, because he's telling her that she doesn't have to do it on her own, that she can't do it on her own, that he's worried she'll get hurt; well no, he's not using these words specifically, but after two years Stiles figures she knows exactly what he's trying to tell her when he tells her "Don't be an idiot," and then half a second later, his voice a little more broken, his plea a little more tangible, "please, Stiles."

Stiles stares back at him, back at those pools of shimmering green. It's too much. She hates how easily he can make her feel like this even after walking out on all of them, on her. She hates that her father almost died, again, because of her and all this supernatural bullshit. She hates that Scott was an asshole to her and that she's returning the favour because, yes, she is that immature and will hold a grudge (just ask Derek). All these feelings… it's not like a fog clouding her judgement, it's like a storm inside her head. Stiles remembers the last time she felt like this, so disjointed, so hopeless, so full of self-loathing… it's not a time she likes to remember. Why is she even thinking about that? Because her ADHD mind hates her and likes tormenting Stiles, making it all the more harder for her to even make a conscious effort at a clear and concise thought process. Closing her eyes, she massages her temples as she pulls away from Derek. Stiles doesn't notice the subtle fall in his expression, as his hand falls to his side. Huffing out a breath, she says, "Right now my dad needs me. That's all that matters. And if keeping him safe means staying clear of all of this… then that's what I'm going to do."

He lets her go, return back to her father's side ignoring her rumbling stomach. He watches her for another minute, as she carefully takes her dad's hand in her own, resting her chin on the bed. Then he leaves silently.

You. All of you. That's what she'd meant when she'd said she wanted to steer clear of this supernatural mess. He knows it. Even if she won't admit it. Derek doesn't blame, as much as he wants to be angry at her. For one, he knows she's way too curious for her own good; for another matter, she's driven by guilt and pain, just like him. She'll go looking for answers, if for anything to stop Theo and probably make good on her threats to the bastard.

Scott stares helplessly at the pile at his feet. He'd spent the better part of the last hour working on his murder board.

"Well that's an improvement," the snarky remark comes from the former Alpha, lounging on his bed, nose buried in a book from Scott's summer reading.

"At least I'm doing something. You're not even trying to be helpful!" Scott whines irritably. Derek doesn't acknowledge him, his attention so rapt on the paragraph he's on, that Scott actually thinks maybe he hadn't heard him. Just before he can start bitching again, Derek sets the book aside and throws his legs over the edge of the bed. His expression reads calm, collected and maybe even a little smug (underneath all the usual angsty, brooding crap that Scott's used to); it's a look Scott's seen several times, the one that tells him Derek is going to school him - either by kicking his ass or pointing out Scott's flawed actions.

"You want help?" Scott stares at him bemused by the question. Derek's answer is only to raise his brows, prompting Scott to stutter out a yes. "Ask Stiles."

Scott's jaw drops with indignation. "That's it? Ask Stiles."

"You wanted me to be helpful. This is me being helpful."

"You're not even doing anything!"

"Scott you need Stiles. You need your pack."

Scott drops his sad puppy eyes to his feet. After a short moment, he replies softly, sombrely, "They don't want me. They don't need me."

Derek rises from the bed, coming to stand before the younger man. "Look at me." Those words have an instant effect, brown puppy eyes meeting his own, with all the same fear and sadness, anger and awe that Derek saw in them the night of Scott's first full moon. "You need them. And they need you."

"What if it's too late?"

"It isn't. You could feel the pack bonds, couldn't you? When we were looking for that Noah kid."

After a moment's thought, Scott offers a stiff nod. "You left your sigil for Theo to find. Why?"

Scott didn't think Derek knew about it. But then again, it is Derek. If anyone was going to know about the mark, it would be him. "It was a promise wasn't it?" Derek prompts.

Scott nods, running a hand over arm where beneath lies his own tattoo. "To reunite the pack. Stronger than before," he finishes.

"Then do it."

"How? I don't even know where to start."

Quirking a brow at him, Derek raises Scott's left arm. The tacked red string still hangs limply from the sleeve's hem. Tugging on it, Derek pulls the string loose, but continues to hold it in the air between them. "I think you know where to start."

"I already tried her. She doesn't even want to look at me, let alone talk to me."

"Remember what I told you. If you don't give up, she'll eventually listen. Stiles is good at that. Listening," Derek says offering the kid a hopeful smile.

Stiles stares at the body of Donovan; it's strange how… still he is. Would she say at peace? She doesn't know. She doesn't know if she wishes it on him, but that very thought brings on the stabbing guilt she's been feeling, reminding her of what she told Theo about how she felt when Donovan died. But now, when she looks at him she realises how similar they are. Both so young, both in such unusual, such unfair and heartbreaking circumstances. She realises how easily their roles could have been reversed. Maybe in some alternate reality, it would be him standing with his father staring down at her corpse.

She feels so detached despite her father's reassurance and forgiveness only moments ago. For weeks she'd been trying to cling onto the fact that it was self defence. But in her heart, she feels it doesn't really matter. Even if she as Derek's and her father's reassurance, in her heart all she can hear is Theo taunting her that she killed Donovan because she could, dredging her through the memories of all the red in her ledger. " _You've still got more blood on your hands than any of us.'_

"Does it go away," she hears herself whisper.

There's a beat of silence, then a sigh. "Not for you." Her heart breaks a little. Her dad tells her that she has to learn to bear it, just like he has. "Sometimes it doesn't truly feel okay again until there's a kind of counterbalance." Curiously, she meets his gaze; his face is soft with empathy and pity for her.

"Like what?"

The corners of his lips tug upwards, "Like instead of taking a life, you manage to save one. Something like that can help, but maybe only for a moment." Of course nothing good could ever last for her.

Noah lays a gentle hand on his daughter's shoulder. Learning to compartmentalise her emotions, definitely something she picked up from Argent; in some ways it's helped Stiles, in other ways, Noah knows she's only hurting herself. But unfortunately she's as stubborn as he is, and less than willing to let anyone know about her problems let alone help her. But if she thinks she can school her emotions from him, she's got another thing coming… He tells her that she needs to let her heart catch up to her head.

Stiles tries and fails to smile at the comment. But she can no longer deny the part of her that's dead inside. Exhaling, she looks to her hands, remembering the blood that stained them. "I feel like it's more than guilt though. I feel like… I feel like I lost something." Clenching her fists, she tiredly adds, "I feel like I can't get it back."

"You won't," the sheriff sighs. "Not entirely." Stiles keeps her watery gaze focussed on her clenched fists, still seeing the blood there. It doesn't matter how much she blinks, she can still see it. The hand on her shoulder, shifts to her chin, gently pulling her gaze to her father's sympathetic face. "But you get a little bit by forgiving yourself. And since that's not always the easiest thing in the world to do, then maybe you start by forgiving someone else. Someone who probably really needs it."

After a short while, the father and daughter pair find themselves back in the Sheriff's room. She helps him into bed when her phone buzzes. "Who is it?" the sheriff asks, noting the soft smile on Stiles' face.

"Jane. She says she and the gang are headed back from London next week."

"And your uncle?"

"She didn't say. But if he were off doing shady government stuff, she would have mentioned it."

"He really should learn to use a cell phone."

"I'm pretty sure that contradicts the whole laying low, staying off the grid, trying to be normal thing he's going for. Besides dad he's like ancient compared to you."

He rolls his eyes at her playfully, but catches her lingering gaze on the message. "What is it?"

Stiles shoots him a look as if she'd been caught with her hands in the cookie jar. "What's what?"

"What else did she say, that you aren't telling me?"

"Nothing we can't talk about later. You need rest."

"Stiles," he pushes, ignoring her hands on his shoulders trying in vain to force his head back onto his fluffy pillow. Crossing his arms adamantly, he glares her into admitting defeat.

"Fine, fine," she groans. "She, uh, she wanted to know if I wanted to if I wanted to come stay with her in New York."

He raises his brows at this. "New York?"

Stiles hums, nervously tugging at the hem of her skirt. "Yeah," she clears her throat.

"She's not headed back to Culver?"

Stiles shoots him an unimpressed looked. "That's what you got from that?" Rolling her eyes at his blank expression, she reaffirms, that yes Jane is headed back to the Big Apple. "She's been contracted full time at the Tower's R&D."

"The tower?"

"Yes, dad. The Tower."

It takes a moment for it all to click for him. "Oh _that_ tower. Wow. I'm impressed." He then looks at her, noting the way she nods absentmindedly, not really looking at anything in particular. "Do you want to go?"

Stiles freezes a moment, but then continues on with her idle fidgeting. "I'm not really into the whole science, R&D stuff."

"But?"

She looks at him and he can see the sleep circles beneath her eyes, the weary tilted smile she forces on her face for his benefit. "But nothing. I'm not going to run away."

"You wouldn't be running away."

She shakes her head with a sad smile. "There's still too much going on. I can't leave."

A long silence draws out between them. "What about when it's over?"

Shafts of sunlight peek through the curtained entrance, crawling their way across the sand floor towards her. Kira rolls away, shielding her tired eyes. Her entire body feels sore. She doesn't ever remember being in a fight or training session with the girls that's left her this bone weary. The Skinwalkers are allowing her some hours to rest herself, but she's finding it difficult to really slip into a blissful sleep; she can feel the fox's spirit, like a thrum of energy, a gentle hum beneath her skin. It keeps her on the brink of wakefulness. Sighing she rolls over again onto her back. A pair of familiar boots enters the tent. Coming to stop a foot from her. Kira looks up at her mother, offering her a tight smile.

Noshiko gazes down at her beautiful daughter, her heart aching for the trials the young girl has to face. Sitting down next to her, she runs her fingers through Kira's long hair. She remembers Kira as a little girl, sitting in her lap while she'd braid the mass of dark locks.

"I miss dad."

"Me too."

"I miss them."

"I know you do, sweetheart."

Kira sits up a little, allowing herself to lean into her mother's side and be enveloped her maternal warmth. She always loved the feeling of her mum running her fingers through her hair. It made her feel calm, safe. "I'm scared."

"The skinwalkers will help you Kira. You may get hurt but they mean no real harm to you."

"I know that. That's not what bothers me."

"Then what does?"

Kira sighs, absentmindedly drawing shapes in the sand. "I'm scared I'm never going to see them again. Dad. My pack."

Noshiko presses a kiss to her head. "I know. Believe me, I know how you feel." She can't offer anything more reassuring, she's not foolish enough to give her daughter false hope. As kitsunes, loss is a perpetual thing. Noshiko has rarely loved anyone as she had Rhys and her husband, knowing all too well the pain that will come with time and age. But alas, somethings come to pass, feelings get in the way, but in the end she tells herself the love and life are worth the pain and grief. Especially when she's gifted with a daughter like Kira.

It's quite some time before Kira drifts to sleep on her mother's shoulder, swayed by a soft melody her mother would hum. Gently laying her back down, Noshiko brushes the dark locks from her daughter's peaceful face. She carefully exits the tent after several more minutes of watching the girl's breathing even out more.

The skinwalkers are there. Waiting patiently. But not for her. They stare patiently, out across the plains. Noshiko follows their gaze. The winds pulls up the sand, making small dust tornados. Nothing abnormal about that. But as she watches the spiralling winds, she begins to see shadows emerge from within them. Figures. Two women. At least she can only assume they are women, though there is nothing earthly about them at all. Their skin shines with an ethereal glow, golden and bright. Noshiko feels the fox spirit within her shy away from them. It is only once they draw to a ner enough distance, that something within the old Kitsune recognises them. "Mother of wisdom. Mother of the hunt," she says sagely, bowing to them. From the corner of her eye, the Skinwalker also bend the knee, though their chins remain high, their gazes unwavering from their new guests. "Kitsune, rise," the women speak as one.

Noshiko obeys silently, finally bringing her gaze to meet theirs.

"Noshiko," the younger of the two says. She wears armour of a silver that shines like the moonlight, not unlike her silver-blonde hair braided carefully like the paintings of shieldmaidens.

"Artemis," the kitsune nods at her old friend. The goddess smiles sweetly, then looks to her sister. "Athena," Noshiko greets her, earning her a small smile. Athena is not unlike her sister in looks, save for the long golden tresses the flow down her back like a molten waterfall. "It has been long, Noshiko."

"It has. I did not think to see either of you walk these mortal plains again."

"Can you blame us? The Renaissance was a good time."

Noshiko smirks slightly at the memories. But it's replaced with a frown all too quickly. "I take it this is not a social visit."

The two sisters smile at her sadly, knowing exactly what Noshiko will say next. "We cannot help her. Kira belongs with the Skinwalkers."

"Then why have you come?" Noshiko snaps at them; they take no offence, knowing the love she has for her daughter.

It is Artemis who answers her, "To ask permission."

"Permission?"

Athena nods. "We would like to take her to Olympus."

"You have more power than I, why bother asking my permission?"

"Courtesy for an old friend," Artemis replies. "You can come too, should you wish. We will return her to the skinwalkers. But there are some truths, some lessons we hope to share with her."

Noshiko assesses the sisters for a few quiet moments. She is not ignorant of the fact the skinwalkers are too assessing her; she knows they have already permitted the excursion, now they wait for her. Silently she nods.

Athena smiles broadly. "Very well."

The last thing Noshiko remembers is a blinding light.

There's a pounding in his head, dulling his senses while at the same time electrifying them. It's an odd sensation of feeling everything and nothing all it once; so much light and colour and noise, the odd feeling of cool water running over his skin while at the same time feeling a spreading heat over his limbs that Scott can only compare to sunbathing on the seashore at Santa Cruz - his mum used to take him and Stiles there for at least a week every summer when they were kids.

"Scott!" He hears a voice call out.

"Mum?" he slurs tiredly.

"Scott wake up!" And then suddenly it's like being dragged out of the water; everything becomes clearer in a moment as he's throwing himself into a sitting position, gasping desperately for air. His mum's on her knees in front of him, Derek standing behind her. Concern and relief are etched onto both their features.

"Mum?"

"You okay, sweetheart?"

He nods slowly, though truth be told is a little unsure of himself. Taking a glance at their surroundings does nothing to help his confusion. "Where are we?"

"No idea," piques up a familiar voice. Scott turns to his left, finally realising that they're not alone. Argent is bracing himself against the rugged caved wall, Parrish at his side to steady him. He hears another groan. Before he can look, Derek's already disappeared from his sight. Pushing himself to stand up, Melissa at his side, Scott takes in that Stiles and the Sheriff have also joined them in this nondescript cave.

Derek's at the Sheriff's side first, helping him sit up against the cave wall. He doesn't have to hold the man's hand to know that his wounds are still causing him quite a lot of pain. Derek watches the older man's face, waiting for the tell tale signs of relief, ignoring the searing pain through his veins. When the grimace of Noah's face dissipates, he offers the former Alpha a gentle pat on the arm and a grateful smile. But it's only after a short battle of raised brows does Derek finally decide to let go and turn to the younger of the Stilinskis. By this point Stiles has already managed to push herself up to sit alongside her father. Her head's between her knees, her ragged breaths loud for all to hear. Her heartbeat is steady, so Derek's assured she isn't having a panic attack. Breathing in her scent he can sense her nausea. Behind him, the other shuffle closer to them.

"Stiles- how… you weren't there a minute ago," Scott stammers bemusedly.

The girl scoffs. "No shit, dumbass."

Derek gently threads his fingers through his matted hair that's creating a curtain between them. His fingers brush over her temples as he carefully threads her hair back away from her face, revealing more and more of her features to him. Slowly and gently, he curves along her cheek and under her jaw, tilting her head up. When those blue eyes finally meet his, he softly whispers, "You okay?"

She doesn't say anything, only nods fervently, her lips tight. She breaks away from his gaze and looks to her dad, who smiles at her gently, nodding to her that he's fine for now. Only then does Stiles acknowledge the others with them. "What are we doing here? How did we all get here? Where the hell is here?"

"That's what we were wondering too," comes Malia's voice. She stumbles out of the shadows, Braeden at her side.

Parrish looks behind the newcomers. "How far back does this cave go?"

Neither of them know. They say back their way there was no sign of an entrance... "I sort of just followed my instincts and it led us here," Malia finishes.

"So what do we do?" Parrish asks again. He points out that there are several exits from this cavern they're in, tucked away beyond the shadows of the cave, which Stiles is only just realising is alit by firelight. Scrambling up, she approaches one of the torches along the wall, her face screwed in bemusement.

"What is it?" Argent asks, approaching the girl.

Hesitantly she raises a finger to the flame, ignoring the comments and protests of those around her. Her finger passes through, then her hand. She withdraws and does it again, slower, letting the flames settle around her skin. Argent snatches at her wrist, bringing the limb up to examine it, shocked to find her unscathed. "It didn't burn," she whispers.

"What did it feel like?"

She's quiet a moment, thinking through the odd sensation. "Sunshine," she eventually answers.

Before anyone can question it, more footsteps can be heard approaching them, louder and faster than Malia and Braeden had been. "Friend or foe?" Argent quickly throws to the shifters but none offer an answer. He takes in Scott, Derek and Malia's tense stances, and quickly nudges Stiles behind him. Drawing his gun, he takes aim at the passage where the sound seems to ricochet most. Parrish falls in line with him, weapon drawn while the werewolves and werecoyote bear claws and fangs.

The stampede grows louder with every second. Then suddenly a figure emerges from the shadows. Two figures actually. Stumbling out of the shadows really. The shorter one seems to trip on his feet, and the second isn't fast enough so ends up collapsed on top of his friend.

Scott quirks a brow at the pair. "Liam? Mason?"

"Hey Scott," the two boys groan, awkwardly struggling to untangle themselves. They eventually manage to scramble apart. Liam looks ready to say something but freezes the moment his eyes land on Scott again. Mason takes over, "Woke up with a pounding headache and no idea how you got here or where you are?" Everyone nods. "Same as the three of us."

"I know I'm bad at math, but I'm pretty sure there's just two of you," Malia points out.

The two freshman share a bemused look then glance behind them, before looking back at one another with accusation slapped across their faces. "You were supposed to keep an eye on him!"

"No you were!"

"No you!"

"I was sniffing out these guys! How was I supposed to keep an eye on him?"

"You're the one with claws and fangs. If he acted up, you're the one who was supposed to fight him!"

"Shut up!" Derek barks, silencing the two freshmen. "Who the hell are you talking about? Theo?"

Liam shoots him his confused puppy face. "No. Why would Theo be here?"

"Why would any of us be here?" Malia snarks.

Rolling her eyes, Stiles clarifies, "Whoever you were with, you clearly didn't trust them. Why would we not assume it's Theo?"

The freshmen wear sheepish looks. "That makes sense," Liam replies, rubbing the back of his neck. He can feel his Alpha's (can he still say that?) eyes on him but is too afraid to look at Scott. Truth be told, he's afraid to meet any of their gazes, except maybe Stiles (though if he's being honest with himself, she does scare the shit out of him at times).

"Liam!" Stiles snaps at him impatiently.

"Oh right. Well he uh, we ran into him back there. And when he found out that we knew you guys-" he really is afraid to say he's pack, mostly because he's afraid to face Scott's rejection, "he said he was a friend."

Mason adds, "Yeah but we've never seen him before, and from what Liam told me, you guys made a lot of enemies in the past, so..."

"So you didn't know whether to trust him and assumed he was lying?" Stiles correctly finishes their train of thought. "And then you lost him. This potential bad guy and threat to our lives?"

"Yes, maam?" Liam squeaks.

If eye rolls were a sound, the entire cavern would be thunderous.

"Who was he?" Derek asks.

"Why don't you ask me yourself?" A voice calls from within the shadows. Seconds later a face no one had expected to see again emerges.

"Isaac!" The blonde werewolf barely blinks before he finds his arms full with the sheriff's daughter. Stiles' arms wrap around his shoulders, holding him in a tight embrace and Isaac can't help himself but wrap his arms around her waist, drawing her closer into him. He relishes in her warmth, in her touch, in her scent. Stiles had always been one of the more touchy feely of their pack and her hugs always reminded him of his mother's. Burying his nose into her blonde locks, he inhales deeply and is enthused to discover her scent hasn't changed much either; she still smells of motor oil and peppermint intermingled with the earthy scent of old books though he concludes she no longer drinks coffee eight times a day given the distinct lack of caffeine; there's still her cloud of anxiety, which in some ways feels stronger than it had been in the time he had known her but now that she's in his arms, her utter joy is like sunrays breaking through the cloudbank. He almost doesn't want to pull away from their embrace. The familiarity, the acceptance, the friendship... it epitomized the all he'd been aching for this past year. It felt like home... it felt like pack. Stiles pulls away first, startling him with the angry expression on her pretty features. "What the hell's matter with you!? Do you realise how worried I was? Seriously, one email every few months is not enough to placate my anxiety!" Before he can say anything his defence, he's drawn back into her arms. "Oh my god, I missed you so much."

"I forgot your hugs could bruise," he chuckles.

With one final squeeze, she pulls away from him with a broad grin. Stepping to the side, she allows his eyes to wander to the others. Derek is the first he makes contact with. They hold each others gaze a moment, all the love, the respect, the hurt, the grief they experienced passes between them in less than a second. Then Isaac throws himself at him in what Stiles would call a 'lingering bro hug'. Scott is next and it's much the same, though Isaac does manage to slip in a reassurance that he's not mad at Scott, that he never was. You'd have to be an idiot to not see the guilt that wracked Scott's body when he first saw Isaac. Melissa steps up to hug her 'second son', fondly ruffling his locks. Argent pats his cheek and pulls him in for a very fatherly hug, revealing to the others just a little of how close the two had become when they left Beacon Hills together almost a year ago now. Braeden offers a kind nod, while the Sheriff supported by Parrish, shakes his hand. "Good to have you back, son."

"Good to be back... sort off..." he trails off looking at their surroundings.

"What do you remember?" Derek asks.

Isaac's face pinches in concentration. "I was driving across the border and then... nothing."

"The border? To Beacon Hills?" Scott asks.

Isaac nods. With a soft smile, he explains, "I figured I'd been away long enough. Missed my home. Missed my pack."

Scott slaps his shoulder gently but doesn't let go; Isaac can see something behind his Alpha's eyes. Gratitude. Hope. But he can also see the pain, the anguish. Scott may try to hide it now, but he wears the look of defeat, of failure that Derek had once worn. Clearly he's struggling with his responsibilities. Looking around, he can see the slightly haunted look in everyone's eyes. He'd once worn that, but a year abroad had given him time to heal. But while he's been taking care of himself, they had been suffering. He'd heard some rumours about assassins and Kate Argent but those had been few and far between.

A girl with short brown hair and a look that screams ' _I'm going to eat you and not in the fun way_ ' look in her eye, raises her hand awkwardly like a schoolkid asking to go to the bathroom. "Uh, not to ruin the reunion party you guys got going on, but mind filling us in on who new guy is," she gestures to herself and the two kids he'd bumped into and followed here.

Derek slaps an arm around Isaac's shoulders, shooting the three of them one of those proud big brother grins and wow, doesn't that throw Isaac through a loop, because since when does Derek Hale smile? Damn, he missed a lot. "This is Isaac Lahey," Derek introduces. "Isaac you might remember Malia, and you

Ve already met Liam and Mason," he gestures to the three respective figures. Just by observing them earlier, Isaac could tell Liam was a beta and Mason was human. Something about the way they interacted reminded him all too much of Scott and Stiles, that he'd been tempted to laugh if it had not been for the fact that he enjoyed their wariness and fear of him - Derek would have been so proud. Speaking of, the Hale continues to introduce him... "Isaac was my first beta-"

"Wait you were an Alpha?"

"Yes," Derek huffs, glaring at Liam who's been the one to interrupt. "But after I gave up my Alpha spark, he became Scott's beta."

"Why'd you give up being an Alpha?"

"And why'd he leave Beacon Hills?"

Before anyone can answer or reject the questions posed, Stiles steps up to Isaac's other side, looping her arm through his, saying, "Those are stories for another day. The important thing is that my favourite puppy is back."

Liam pouts, "I thought I was your favourite puppy," he mutters kicking the dirt. Stiles rolls her eyes.

Braeden is the one to bring them back to the real issue at hand, reminding all those present that they still have no idea where they are or how they got here. It's briefly debated that the 'why' can be a solved later, though Stiles continues to grumble about it. They argue over how to get out. Going back isn't a real option, and trying each tunnel would most likely take too long, since caves systems like these could stretch on for miles.

"Someone's coming," Derek says after what feels like hours but has truly only been minutes. From the shadows four figures materialise. The light that surrounds them is too bright for humans and supernatural beings alike to gaze upon, brighter than the sun.

From behind her hands, Stiles feels the warmth of the light recede. Paring back her raised hands, she peeks at the four figures. "Kira?"

The kitsune looks dazed for about half a second before throwing herself at Scott. Their kiss is short-lived thanks to Isaac awkwardly coughing. It earns him a bashful grin turned into a confused but excited smile when she looks at him. The look fades all too quickly and recognising where her emotions are taking her, Isaac quickly reaches over to her shoulder and offers her a reassuring squeeze. "I don't blame you," he says.

Argent who'd been ignoring the extended reunion, fixes Noshiko and her companions with a firm look of suspicion. "I'm guessing you had something to do with this," he directs at the kitsune.

She shakes her head. "No. I am a guest here as much as you are."

"Guest? Feels more like we're captives," he retorts.

"Guests. Captives. Whatever the hell we are, where are we?" The Sheriff questions, his suspicion directed more so at the two women behind Noshiko. They level their gaze with that of the pack.

"The tunnels beneath Olympus," the silver-haired maiden replies cooly.

Stiles gawks. "Olympus? As in Mount Olympus. Home of Greek gods and champions Olympus? That Olympus?"

The golden-haired woman smirks at her. "Yes that Olympus."

As if well aware their guests are about to spew forth a conundrum of questions, the golden haired figure raises her arms, silently compelling all to still their tongues for now. "I am Athena. This is my sister Artemis. We have brought you all here to prepare you. The battles you fight now are nothing compared to the wars you shall face in the years to come."

Artemis gestures to their dim surroundings. "These tunnels were forged by our brother Hephaestus. But it's true powers lies therein the flames that light these paths - they were forged in my brother Apollo's blood. Once meant as a safe haven for his Oracles, this is where they gathered from all ends of the then known world," at this Artemis nods subtly toward all the passageways. "This is where they congregated to scribe the secrets and histories of men." Reaching out to touch a wall, the silver-haired goddess draws her eyes closed. "Their power has practically bled into these walls."

"That's a beautiful story, but mind getting back to the whole preparing us for terrible, horrible wars," Stiles quips up when the silence had stretched too long for her liking (three seconds).

"Be patient, we are waiting for our brother to return with your Oracle. This cannot be done without her," Athena answers.

Right at that moment, a light like before consumes the cavern and from it emerges a single figure. A tall man who skin and hair shines molten gold like Athena's but eyes are an electrifying green like his twin's. Apollo. "Greetings mortals, I apologise for my tardiness. I had to contend with another banshee to retrieve your own."

"You mean Lydia?" Malia questions. "Where is she?"

"Here," a soft voice rasps. Stepping out of the god's shadow, Lydia smiles back at her pack. Stiles instantly makes for her, but her hands pass straight through her friend. Flailing back she almost trips over, if not for Apollo's steadying hand. He throws her and the others a sheepish look. "Forgive me. I should explain. When I went to retrieve your friend here, I really only needed her blood." At this he raises a small vial filled to the brim with blood. "Don't worry, her spirit will become tangible unto you all soon."

Melissa looks at him skeptically. "Aren't you the god of healing? Couldn't you just heal her and bring her here like the rest of us?"

"I could, but Lydia needs to be where she is now. Even if it pains her, she has important things to learn. But I have brought an essence of her spirit, so she too may participate in the proceedings. When her spirit returns to your mortal plane and merges with her body, she will remember all she has seen here."

"And what exactly are these proceedings?" The sheriff questions.

But it's not the deities who answer, it's Argent. "Visions. You're going to show us visions. Specifically visions that affect this pack, otherwise you wouldn't go to the trouble of procuring Lydia's blood when you can choose anyone of your own oracles who you have at your disposal, am I right?"

Athena smirks at him, impressed, as does Artemis. Apollo just pouts as if insulted to have his air of mystery stolen from him. Huffing in a rather childlike manner, the god affirms Argent's theory, "You are right. Though be not mistaken. We do not intend to show you of your wars. That would only spur you to attempt to prevent them, which would have far more dire consequences. You must know these wars will come, there is no avoiding it no matter what path you choose."

Derek scoffs at this, "What's the point of all of this then?"

"To guide you towards the safest path, the one which ascertains the better outcome for the greater good," Artemis replies without missing a beat.

This is met with various responses, all of which more or less questions the probable success of this fate when they, the pack, are not allowed to see what the future beholds them to prepare them. It's one voice alone that whispers, "History." All eyes turn to Kira, once they notice that is where Apollo has fixed his gaze. Despite being tucked away in the safe warmth of Scott's arms, she still can't help but fidget with the attention on her.

From the corner of her eye, she catches her mother's proud smile. "Go on, Kira," she encourages.

Fiddling with her sleeve, the thunder kitsune nervously explains, "Well, they say war is a product of mankind not learning from it's mistakes. So I figure, even if we can't prevent this war, there must be something in the past that we can learn from to hope for a better outcome."

Athena smiles at her sagaciously. "Correct, young kitsune. Spoken like a true warrior." Her gaze then extends across to the all the pack and it's allies. "You are broken. You have allowed another to sow seeds of discord and distrust among you. You have forgotten your ties. You have forgotten your anchors. And each one of you-" as she says this her eyes slowly pass over each individual's face, "... have forgotten yourselves. It is time to revisit your pasts. The beginning of your story. Where your wars first began." She then nods to her brother. He unscrews the cap off the vial, and ever so slowly, tips it, swirling it gracefully within the air, forming some sort of hieroglyph. The mortals watch in awe as Lydia's blood forms the delicate shape. Apollo's eyes close briefly as he begins chanting quietly in ancient greek. With every second that passes by, a single drop of Lydia's blood falls from the airborne sigil to the cave floor. As the last few drops draw nearer, the god opens his eyes, now glowing a glorious molten gold in their entirety. "I suggest you all take a seat. We have two years to catch up on."


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello lovely readers. How are you guys? Please leave reviews, they help so much. But no flames.**

 **\- Bold text = Script/Show -** \- Normal text = Current events and conversations of the characters watching their past -

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Teen Wolf or an of its affiliated characters.**

* * *

The group of mortals settle themselves in a boxed horseshoe, and despite tensions between certain members, remain close together for protection should anything go wrong.

Along the back wall are the Sheriff, Argent, Melissa and Noshiko. Next to the Sheriff alongside the right wall is Parrish, with Lydia's spirit (now more tangible before thanks to her blood imbued within the grounds) and Stiles in front of him, Stiles of course wanting to stay close to her dad. Braeden's still standing, propped up against the wall in the spot next to Parrish. Scott and Kira took residence in front of their mum's respectively, and Malia along the left side wall lying on her stomach legs kicked up. Isaac had made to settle into the very obvious space between Stiles and Scott but a firm hand on the shoulder and raised eyebrow from Derek quickly redirected him to the spot in front of her, while Derek stole his intended spot. Huffing like the puppy Stiles always claims he is, Isaac settled his long body along the ground much like Malia has, his feet tucked in the small gap between Stiles and Lydia. Liam and Mason plant themselves on either side of Malia's lounging figure.

The group waits silently. Though for the shifters with a keen sense of smell, the anxiety and nervousness is so overwhelming. Everyone's minds are abuzz, wondering what these visions will show, fearing their worst, darkest secrets will be on air for all. Some are split between worry over their pasts, others over their futures.

Apollo finally drops his hand and steps back. The final drop of blood seeps into the earth and disappears.

The torches begin to dim, lowering quickly as a faint mist form before them all. But there's something odd about this mist; Stiles would swear it's silver and shimmering. It takes a moment for her to realise it's a mirror that fills the height of the cave. But as they stare within the glassy depths, they do not find their reflections.

There's crackle, the sound of thunder. And then light consumes the cave before fading quickly. As they all peel their eyes open they find themselves staring at two-storey house beneath a canopy of trees. In the background the moon is almost full.

"Is that my house?" Melissa mumbles, weirded out by this after only two seconds.

Apollo tries to offer her a comforting look, "We did say we would be looking into your pasts."

"Right. Right."

 **The scene delves inside a bedroom, where a kid threads the laces of his lacrosse stick. His work is fast and precise, finger plucking and pulling each cord into a perfect diamond mesh. He tests the tension with his fist and then with the ball. Satisfied with his effort, he make drops the stick on his bed and makes his way to the bathroom. Taking hold of the bar mounted above his frame, the lithe kid pumps out a few chin ups.**

"You still train?" Parrish asks. "Doesn't being a werewolf make that unnecessary?"

"Not really," Scott answers. "It's like an off-switch. We don't have to rely on our heightened sense or reflexes; we can still do things the human way. But at the same time, it's like they're always there," Scott finishes, remembering the LaCrosse Tryouts that year, when he'd sucked so bad that Stiles told him she was in physical pain watching him.

 **Onscreen Scott's rinsing his mouth out and washing his face when he hears something. Stilling, he looks up behind him, hearing that strange shuffling noise again beneath the whispering wind.**

"Aww you used to look so adorable with all your floppy hair," coos Braeden teasingly. Scott shoots her an unimpressed but bashful look. His mother seems to agree, nodding enthusiastically. "You should have seen him when he was a kid. Especially after he lost he two front teeth. I think I still have photos-"

"Mu-um!" Scott whines, earning a round of laughter, even from Stiles and Malia who'd he become most estranged with.

Liam, he notices, narrows his eyes at the screen. "How young were you here?" he asks eventually catching onto the fact the Scott's watching him. Scott shakes his head but at that moment the scene shifts again, causing him gasp as the memories come flooding back. "I remember this." He ignores the others' curious glances watching his onscreen self wander out onto his porch with his mum's wooden bat.

"Scott?" Kira softly pushes.

"It's the last night of winter break, sophomore year." While most look puzzled, Lydia, Derek and Stiles share a look conveying to the rest that they know exactly what the True Alpha means.

 **Breath held tight, Scott cautiously moves around the porch. He peers left and right as he white-knuckles the bat, ready to swing. Stepping closer to the railing, he leans forward to peer out into the darkness -**

 **Suddenly a figure drops down from the vine-wrapped trellis.**

 **Practically all the teenagers jump as well as Melissa and Parrish. Melissa had subconsciously leaned into Argent, who only smiles down at her obliviousness before returning his attention to the screen.**

 **When the two figures have stopped screaming at one another, Scott takes a hasty step back. He exhales, as if just recovering from a heart attack. Scott exclaims, "Stiles! What the hell are you doing?"**

 **"You weren't answering your phone-" Glancing at Scott's weapon, Stiles remarks, "Why do you have a bat?"**

"Really Stiles? You almost gave the poor kid a heart attack. I'm pretty sure you gave me a heart attack," her father grumbles. The girl grins at him sheepishly, earning her a roll of his eyes and a loving shove.

 **"I thought you were a predator!" Scott explains.**

 **Stiles scoffs at this with amusement. Right because Beacon Hills is so dangerous. Feet caught in the trellis, she continues talking upside down as if this were a perfectly normal way to have a conversation.**

"You're stuck aren't you," Lydia remarks.

"Shh, watch."

 **"Look, I know it's late, but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave 20 minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even State Police."**

"Really Stiles?" Noah and Melissa groan together.

It's Derek who asks her how long she's been listening on her father's calls.

"Ever since I installed the police scanner into the jeep when I got my license."

"You're hopeless."

"You're an asshole."

"Stiles."

"Derek."

"Can you both shut up so that we can keep watching!" Malia snaps at them. Stiles and Derek share withering glares before returning their attention to the screen that resumes its playback.

 **"For what?" Scott asks, very interested in what his friend has to say.**

 **"Two joggers found a body in the woods." Reaching up to pull herself free of the trellis, she lands on her feet in front of Scott.**

Scott and Stiles would be remiss to not notice Derek stiffen. On his left, Scott pats his shoulder. On his right, Stiles lays her hand on his ever so subtly. Argent and the Sheriff of course take notice and share a look.

 **Scott leans over the railing, staring at her. "A dead body?"**

 **She shoots him an unimpressed look. "No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body."**

That comment earns a few chuckles.

 **Stiles helps herself over the railing, turning to face Scott. "You mean like murdered?" he asks.**

 **"Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her 20s."**

"Hold up… what is Stiles wearing?" No one expected Liam to be the one to pose that question.

"What's wrong with what I was wearing?"

"Nothing. You just look like season 1 Rachel Green. No offence but nowadays when we go snooping in the woods, you kind of look like Felicity Smoak."

Stiles stares at him blankly for a few seconds. Then turns to Mason, "You sure you're the gay one?"

Lydia nudges her. "It's sorta true. You have that whole chic-grunge thing going for you. You know with the plaid skirts and flannel and the oversized boyfriend sweaters. And the denim! You have denim everything-" Lydia begins to list them on her fingers, "Jackets, crops, vest - seriously you could not get anymore 1994 then denim vests - and high waist jeans, shorts and skirts."

"And the overalls," Isaac adds in his two cents.

"Oh my god, you have no idea how happy I was to torch those. Literally. It was orgasmic."

Stiles cringes. "You're weird." Lydia smiles at her, charmingly flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Oh sweetheart, you know you love me.

""You threw away my sweaters. All of them. And my hoodies. And my high-waist jeans."

"I was following Allison's example."

"...you two were evil."

"Hello! You have the figure and aesthetic to pull of the sexy secretary look." Lydia then frowns at her, running a critical eye over Stiles, noting the plaid pencil skirt and denim v-neck beneath her father's Sheriff's jacket. A moment later she nods, giving the silent seal of approval for Stiles choice of wardrobe, even if none of it came out of Lydia's pocket. Continuing, the banshee adds, "I was not about to squander the colossal opportunity to enlighten you to a few more modern options. Besides I let you keep the skirts, your shorts, and all your denim and flannel shirts-" Behind her the Sheriffs coughs under his breath that the cropped tops Stiles wears could hardly be passed for proper skin-covering shirts - "You're lucky I'm sentimental when it comes to F*R*I*E*N*D*S, or else I would have torched your entire wardrobe. And stop being so dramatic, it's not like I lay out your clothes every morning… anymore. Are you really complaining?"

Stiles grumbles in defeat. "Can we just keep watching this."

Lydia claps, "Ooo, I hope they show the shopping trip. That was fun."

"Why would we watch that?" Stiles asks, knowing exactly which shopping trip Lydia was referring to it. It was the one where she and Lydia kidnapped Allison for a girl's weekend to LA, right before the Argents moved back to France for the summer before junior year. Talk about a bender.

Lydia shrugs.

 **"Hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for?"**

 **Stiles grins like a kid on Christmas. "That's the best part. They only found half.," she's practically singing by the end. "We're going," she states.**

Parrish eyes the pair in front of him. "You guys were excited to go looking for a dead body?"

Stiles and Scott share a look of pain and regret that doesn't go amiss. Scott finally answers, "Things were different back then. We were different." The word normal goes unsaid, but they suspect that the others who don't know what happened that night are starting to suspect. From the way Argent looks at him with sympathy, Scott guesses he's made the right assumption.

Stiles adds, "We were just two stupid, naive kids looking for adventure."

Noshiko skeptically questions, "It's Beacon Hills. Surely you'd have preferred to run from adventure."

"Like Scott said, things were different back then."

 **A beat-up jeep skids to a halt just beyond the heavily wooded entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve. Stiles gets out with a flashlight in hand. Scott follows suit. "We're seriously doing this? He questions his friend's sanity.**

 **"You're the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town." She ducks under the sign, charging onto the hiking paths ignoring Scott whining about getting a good night sleep before practice the next day. She snorts as the march through the trees, "Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort."**

 **"No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line."**

Liam looks at Scott properly for the first time. "Why were you benched?"

Scott hesitates to answer him, remembering the look in his eye when he'd tried to kill him. But then he remembers it was the full moon, remembers what Derek had said about Scott needing his pack. "I wasn't always. Not when I was human."

"Wait, are you saying this is before you got the Bite?" Mason asks, gesturing to the screen it is.

Scott nods.

Till this point the gods had been silent, but not Athena clears her throat. "I suggest you refrain from interrupting too much, we have a lot to get through."

"Hang on, if this is going to take a long time, what happens back on Earth?" Lydia asks. "Won't people notice they're missing," she gestures to the others, seeing as her body is still trapped within Eichen House.

Artemis tells them that time is frozen in their mortal plane. They could be here for weeks and not a second would have ticked by on Earth. "Now, let's continue watching."

 **Stiles mocks Scott's unrealistic dreams. Turning the tables on her, he questions, "Which half of the body are we looking for?"**

 **Stiles pauses. "Huh! I didn't even think about that."**

 **"And, uh, what if whoever killed the body is still out here?"**

 **"Also something I didn't think about," she answer unflappably, continuing on with her investigative trek.**

"Stiles…" her dad trails off, letting out a sigh of defeat. He's honestly lost for words.

Derek… not so much. "You have no sense of self-preservation."

"Says the guy who has almost been killed twice and actually did die once."

Isaac peers up at him with eyes as wide as saucers, "You died?"

Derek grunts, crossing his arms, ignoring the pout Stiles covers up at the loss of his hand beneath hers.

"I'm going out on a limb and saying you'll eventually find out," he offers to Isaac. The beta looks ready to argue but then thinks better of it.

In the background, Artemis grumbles, "Why do I even bother?"

 **Scott chuckles, "It's - comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail."**

 **"I know," Stiles brushes him off. Either that or clearly wasn't paying attention. Most likely the latter.**

 **Racing up the paths, Scott's breath begins to shorten. He stops to rest against a tree. "Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?" From his pocket he withdraws his inhaler, shaking it a few times.**

"If it wasn't for everything that's been going on recently, I'd have forgotten how bad that used to be," Melissa sighs, watching with heartache as her poor human baby boy on screen suffer to catch his breath while he trails after his friend. Scott too feels his heart clench, but moreso at the memories of his recent asthmatic episodes, of how well Theo had undermined him, tricked him. Killed him.

 **Scott trips in front of a branch, quickly inhaling his puffer, before jumping up to follow his friend. Crouching low, they circle the crime scene looking for the best vantage point, all the while Scott harshly stage whispering pleas for Stiles to slow down for him. It's only when he shouts, "Stiles!" that she actually stops, realising she's left Scott behind. She slowly looks back when-**

 **Loud barking spins her around. Fanged teeth snap ferociously at her, sending the girl staggering away and falling right onto her ass. The search dog is yanked back against its leash just before tearing it can tear her apart. "Hold it right there!" a state trooper shouts.**

 **Some way back, Scott ducks behind a tree. He hears another voice, more familiar say, "Hang on, hang on. This little delinquent belongs to me." Sheriff Stilinski steps into the light past the growling search dogs. Stiles shrinks under his glare.**

"Wow… I agree with Melissa, this does feel weird," Noah whispers.

Stiles shrugs, "Think of it as a home video."

"A very personal home video that takes invasion of privacy to a whole new level?"

Isaac snorts, "Relax it's not porn, guys." Half a second later he yelps at the synchronsied slaps to the back of his head by both Stiles and Lydia. But then Stiles pauses. She glances over at the three deities. "There isn't going to be anything R-Rated in this, right? And I don't more horror and murder and blood R-Rated. I mean sexual fantasies R-Rated."

Apollo smirks. "Don't worry, it's Mature Audiences at best."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

 **Stiles clumsily stands up, grimacing in the rain. "Dad, how are you doing?" she greets casually, as if not caught snooping a crime scene.**

 **To his credit, the Sheriff maintains an equally casual countenance as he addresses his daughter, "So, do you, uh, listen in to all of my phone calls?"**

 **"No, heh... Not the boring ones."**

Kira looks at her oddly, "What's boring for you?"

Stiles shrugs, "Petty theft, some armed robberies, breaking and entering-"

"In other words the crimes you commit," Malia bluntly states. Stiles pokes her tongue at the girl.

 **"Now, where's your usual partner in crime?"**

 **"Who, Scott? Sc - Scott's home. He said he wanted to get a good night's sleep for first day back at school tomorrow. It's just me. In the woods," then as if it'll make her story anymore believable she adds, "Alone."**

 **Clearly her father doesn't believe her because he side steps Stiles and calls out into the undergrowth behind her, "Scott, you out there? Scott?"**

 **Hidden in the shadows, Scott doesn't move a muscle silently praying to not be found.**

 **On the sheriff's side, he drops the glare of his flashlight. Reaching over to his daughter, her takes her by the scruff and drags her away. " Well, young lady, I'm gonna walk you back to your car. And you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy."**

"The irony," Stiles and her father chuckle.

Seeing he's on his own now, Scott cursed his luck silently. Starting back, he tries to find his way out of the woods, but with each step it becomes increasingly difficult to see in the pitch black.

"Wait you just left him?" Liam looks at Stiles bemused.

"Scott and I knew those woods pretty well even back then. We used to play in the preserve all the time." At this her best friend - because despite everything that's happened between them, he still is her best friend - looks at her, and they share a moment down memory lane, thinking about their simpler, happy childhood. Then the moment passes, and the awkward tension returns, so they all resume their watching.

 **In the distance Scott hears a wolf howling, maybe more than one. But it doesn't faze the sixteen year old, as he continues to navigate through the dark woods. He stumbles upon a fork in the path, pausing in confusion. As he's about to take off in one direction, he hears a rustling among the trees. Scott holds still. Breath tightening more from fear rather than asthma, yet he still reaches into his pocket for his inhaler. Right before he can take a puff, the sound of sudden and furious movement rising takes him by surprise. Half a dozen deer charge out of the darkness, soaring past him with the thunderous beat of hooves trampling the ground. Startled, Scott drops his inhaler.**

Melissa gasps. Scott quickly reaches behind him to squeeze her hand, calming her nerves.

Liam questions what could have done that, caused the deer to stampede into the night.

"Something big and scary," Malia replies.

"Like what?" Mason asks.

Argent beats Scott to the punch - "Like an Alpha."

Liam looks at Scott then with wide eyes. "You mean this is when-"

Scott nods.

 **Once again alone in the dark, Scott kneels down to the leaf-covered ground to search for the inhaler. Pulling out his cell phone, he light the display. Guiding the light over the ground, Scott struggles to find his inhaler amongst the brush. Something pale catches his eye. Bringing the light over it, dead eyes peer up from the pale, yet beautiful face of a young woman torn crudely in half, her innards leaking out of her.**

Derek feels his stomach drop, bile rising to the back of his throat at the sight of his sister's corpse. Yet another person he'd failed to save. Yet another family member who'd fallen victim Kate Argent, however indirectly it had been. He feels Stiles shuffle closer to him, her fingers slowing trailing across his bicep. Relaxing his arms, he drops them to his side; he hand trails down slowing, sending soft tingles over the skin of his forearm. Small calloused fingers intertwine with his own, squeezing gently to comfort him. He thinks no one else has noticed all to rapt in watching the sixteen year old stumble and roll down a hill. But then he catches Isaac's curious eyes. The beta only shakes his head with a cheeky smirk that Stiles would be proud of.

 **Scott finds his feet, steadying himself . He ducks under a large root, only making it a few steps. A low growl stops him moving. Stops him breathing. Turning ever so slowly, Scott spies something in the shadows behind him. Something large. Something with bright crimson eyes.**

 **He tries to turn to run, when he hurtles itself at him. In seemingly less than a single bound, the creature is upon him. For the briefest instant, there's a flash of razor-sharp teeth. Scott twists forward, crying out like a wounded animal. Somehow he manages to disentangle himself and scramble to his feet. He throws himself forward in a panicked run. Whipping through branches tearing at his skin and clothes, he races blindly through the forest until he reaches the highway. Crashing out of the woods and into the road, Scott whirls around to face an oncoming car. The driver swerves, almost clipping him. Horn blaring, the car hurtles past. Breathless, Scott backs away from the woods. With the world spinning around him, dark blood sticks his tattered shirt to his back over. Lifting his clothes, he reveals a deep and vicious looking bite. Dropping his shirt and hoodie back in place, he stares up the road, ignoring the icy winter rain. Then out of the silence he hears the strangest noise.**

 **The howl of a wolf.**

The screen turns black for a split second. Scott and Stiles share a look of fear before glancing over their shoulders at their parents. The Sheriff is just massaging his temples while Melissa is trying her best to not throw herself at her son and plant a million and one kisses. The nurse eventually settles on an action that she deems appropriate - slapping her son over the head. "Ow! What was that for?"

"You know what that was for!" she hisses, her finger still pointing at him threateningly. "Why didn't you tell me you got bitten by what was at the time a rabid and potentially disease-riddled animal!"

Scott winces sheepishly. "I didn't want to get grounded for sneaking out?"

She crosses her arms, with a particularly pissed expression. "Oh just you wait. I'm going to tie you to your bed with wolfsbane and a circle of mountain ash. You're going to be grounded until you die mister!"

The scene changes to the high school, the sign proudly taking centre screen for a moment as the warning bell rings out in the background. Students are milling in through the car park. Scott rides his bike through the lot, pulling up onto the end of the rack.

"A bicycle, you were so cute," Kira coos, teasing her boyfriend.

Stiles scoffs, "I'll tell you what's not cute, having to ride the bars in a skirt because my jeep was in shop. Bro, you really took forever to buy a motorbike." Scott would say something snarky about her beat up jeep if not for two reasons: 1. He knows it belonged to her mother and 2. She just called him bro, which he takes as a step forward.

 **As Scott's chaining up his bike and removing his helmet, a very attractive porsche pulls into the space behind him. The driver's door opens into him. A blonde kid with a jawline that could cut glass exits the car, glaring at Scott as if he just spat on his toast. "Dude - watch the paint job." Scott returns his glare with a bemused look. Someone off screen calls to the blonde's attention, "Yo, Jackson, let's go, bro!" Sparing McCall one last glare, he struts away.**

"Who was that asshole?" Malia asks.

"Jackson. He was sort of… pack," Scott explains.

Lydia sighs, "I miss him."

"Only you would Lydia," Stiles nudges the strawberry blonde, sharing a suggestive smile which Lydia tries to play off. Parrish clearly doesn't seem happy with this exchange, but is late to hide his curiosity when Stiles catches him looking. She rolls her eyes, nods towards Lydia and throws him a wink. He's still confused. Not bothered to placate the deputy's obvious envy again, she returns her attention to the screen, where she finds the younger her on the steps out front the school, waiting for Scott to approach.

Malia eyes this Stiles, "I like the overalls."

"You're my new favourite."

"Are you allowed to show that much skin underneath though?" Malia's referring to the cropped tee the younger Stiles was wearing.

"Shhhh."

"But seriously, you guys look so different. And this was only two years ago," Mason says. "You look so much younger."

Scott looks at the newest member of their pack. With a sombre expression he tells him, "We had to grow up pretty fast. This kind of life…" he trails off, but Mason nods getting the message. Yet behind the wariness and fear in Mason's eye, the True Alpha can also see a determination. And when the boy glances at Liam for half a second, Scott can see his loyalty. Mason would never run from this life, not as long as Liam's here.

" **Okay, let's see this thing," Stiles claps her hands eagerly as Scott approaches her. He drops his bag and lifts his shirt revealing the oversized bandaged. "Ooh!" Stiles reaches to touch it but the second her fingers make contact, Scott flinches, "Whoa!" He rolls down his shirt again and picks up his bag. The two begin to head up towards the school building. "It was too dark to see much, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf."**

 **Stiles shoots him a skeptic look, "A wolf bit you?"**

' **Uh - huh."**

" **No, not a chance."**

" **I heard a wolf howling."**

" **No, you didn't."**

" **What do you mean, no, I didn't? How do you know what I heard?"**

 **Stiles chuckles a bit at her naive friend, "Because California doesn't have wolves, okay? Not in like 60 years." She comes to stop, turning to face him, seeing his clueless puppy face.**

" **Really?"**

" **Yes, really. There are no wolves in California."**

"Technically I wasn't wrong," Stiles points out.

 **Scott sighs dramatically, allowing a cheeky grin onto his face. "All right, well, if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not gonna believe me about when I tell you I found the body."**

 **Stiles bounces in excitement, gripping Scott's shoulders. "You - are you kidding me?"**

" **No, man, I wish. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month."**

" **Oh, god, that is freakin' awesome. I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since, well ever."**

If Stiles can feel Derek's and her father's glares she says nothing, but she does squeeze Derek's hand, her own silent apology. The action is unnecessary, because he can smell the guilt flooding off her in waves.

 **At that moment she catches sight of a gorgeous strawberry-blonde girl, stalking up the steps like it's a fashion runway in Milan. "Hey, Lydia - you look -" Lydia walks straight past her, "like you're gonna ignore me." Stiles sighs, and turns on Scott. "You're the cause of this, you know."**

" **Uh - huh," Scott smirks amused.**

" **Draggin' me down to your nerd depths. I'm a nerd by association. I've been scarlet - nerded by you."**

Kira looks at Scott, Lydia and Stiles. "You guys weren't friends?" It's sort of hard for her to fathom, because if you asked anyone, the ultimate golden trio of their pack was Scott, Stiles and Lydia, if not Scott, Stiles and Derek. Stiles explains, "Well back then, Lydia was the most popular girl in school and Scott and I were bottom of the food chain. Literally." It's a tough pill to swallow for Liam, Mason, Malia and Kira. All they'd ever seen was these three always together, not popular in the traditional sense, but definitely the most powerful and influential in their high school hierarchy. Stiles could be forgiven, given her clumsy tendencies, hyperactive behaviour and general oddities such as looking at crime scene photos in the middle of class.

Surprisingly, Athena seems to have her own two cents, "There are many lessons to learn from watching who you once were individually and as a pack; you've gone through so many evolutions, that newer members cannot understand the choices some of you have or will make. Your stance as a pack is to know all your strengths and all your weaknesses, to see how you have all grown, to see the battles you have all faced with or without each other. To understand how you have become who you are today." It was oddly poetic and a little bit cryptic, but the underlying message was clear. For the earlier members, reflect. For the new members, learn the legacy left to them.

 **The scene changes once again to first period English. The teacher is writing on the board while addressing his class, "As you all know, there indeed was a body found in the woods last night-" at this Scott turns to grin at Stiles secretly, while the teacher continues to drone on… "And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened. But I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody-" the two friends look equally bewildered by this facet of news, "which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining this semester."**

Argent questions the Sheriff, "Is he allowed to make an announcement like that?"

"Not if it's true and hasn't been verified."

Isaac pipes up, "What does that mean?"

"It means he lied," Braeden answers. It's the first thing she's said in a while. But then again, Braeden is always a bit like that. She likes to sit quietly and observe. She shrugs her shoulders, "It was a poor attempt to quit his students from talking about it in class. Although if you ask me, I doubt anyone would really have cared. Except of course these two," she nods at Scott and Stiles.

 **A phone rings loudly. Scott searches for the irritating sound, but notices no one making an attempt to answer their phone. Everyone else is focussed on reading through the syllabus. It takes Scott another moment to realise that he's the only one to be noticing the consistent ringing. Gazing about, he can't seem to find the source until his eyes fall on the windows of the classroom…**

 **Outside, across the quad, Scott sees a girl, probably a sophomore too. She pulls a phone from her bag and puts it to her ear. Somehow, despite the closed windows and distance, Scott's able to hear this ringing. Even more, he's able to tune into the conversation between the mysterious brunette and her caller. "Mom, three calls on my first day is a little overdoing it," she pauses listening to her mum. Searching through her bag, she replies, "Everything except a pen. Oh, my God, I didn't actually forget a pen." As she looks up, she notices someone approaching her and quickly ends the phone call. The vice principal enters Scott's vision. "Sorry to keep you waiting," the man says to the girl. "So you were saying San Francisco isn't where you grew up?"**

" **No, but we lived there for more than a year, which is unusual in my family."**

 **As Scott follows their conversation, his eyes trace across the wall behind which he knows them to be walking. The vice principal continues talking, "Well, hopefully Beacon Hills will be your last stop for a while." Opening the door to the classroom, he enters with the girl in tow. "Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome. "**

 **With a short "thanks" Allison makes a quick duck and run to the only empty desk… which so happens to be right behind Scott's. Settling into her seat, she glances up to see this cute boy with puppy dog eyes turn toward her, holding out a pen. With a relieved but curious smile, she takes it from him. "Thanks."**

The tension in the room had become strung out with so many conflicting emotions.

Argent is the first to break the silence. "She was so beautiful." Melissa throws an arm over his shoulder, offering him a comforting squeeze, which he accepts by laying his hand over hers.

Kira hugs Scott even tighter. She knows she could never replace Allison in his heart, and she'd never want to. She'd befriended Allison and respected the girl a great deal, admired her even. And though it saddened her when Allison was killed, she knows it could never amount to the heartache felt by Allison's former lovers, her two best friends and her father.

Stiles, Isaac and Lydia don't look at each other, but naturally gravitate to one another. And Derek… he never lets go of Stiles' hand.

 **The school day draws to a close. At his locker Scott notices Allison. They connect eyes. She starts to smile, recognizing him as the guy who gave her the pen. The connection is short-lived when Lydia Martin swoops in front of her. "That jacket is absolutely killer. Where'd you get it?" the shorter girl asks.**

" **My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco," Allison answers.**

" **And you are my new best friend," Lydia says, earning her a chuckle from Allison. At that moment, Jackson comes behind Lydia, wrapping an arm around her and drawing her into a kiss.**

 **At Scott's end, Stiles has joined them as well as girl from some of their classes. "Can someone tell me how new girl is here all of five minutes, and she's already hanging out with Lydia's clique?" the other girl questions.**

 **Scott shrugs, "Because she's hot. Beautiful people herd together."**

 **Both girls glare at him and he tries to quickly retract his slip up. "Not that you guys aren't hot. You're totally hot. The hottest. Really, really hot. Sexy even. Dripping with sex appeal." The other girl just rolls her eyes and marches away. Stiles continues to look at Scott with disgust, probably two seconds away from throwing up her lunch. "Dude you're practically my brother, could you please refrain from any further incestuous comments. Please. I do not plan on having Joffery's with you."**

" **Whose Joffrey?"**

 **Stiles rolls her eyes as she opens up her locker.**

 **Scott refocuses his attention on Allison.**

"Creeper much, Scott?" Malia says.

"Oh you have not seen creepy until you see Derek at his worst. Hey," she slaps Derek on his chest playfully. "We're going to meet you soon," she chirrups excitedly.

"Why do you look happy at that?"

"Because now you can see why Scott and I totally hated you when we met."

 **Lydia and Jackson are trying to convince her to come to Jackson's back to school party. "Everyone's going after the scrimmage," Jackson states.**

" **You mean like football?" Allison asks, only earning amused scoffs from the power couple.**

" **Football's a joke in Beacon. The sport here is LaCrosse. We've won the state championship for the past three years. We have practice in a few minutes. That is, if you don't have anywhere else-"**

 **Allison tries to backtrack out of the invite, but Lydia grabs her hand and drags her in the direction of the field.**

The group watch as the scene changes to LaCrosse practice. Scott's ears turn red at the laughter him being knocked on his ass garners from some. But it's cut short by his impressive LaCrosse skills, though at this point no one's really impressed, most of them never actually seeing him at his worst. What did come as a surprise was that Stiles was benched already.

Kira looks at her curiously, "I don't get it, you're a good player-"

"Average at best," Isaac supplies earning him a hard nudge from Stiles.

Kira continues with her question, ignoring Isaac's interruption, "Why were you benched? Did you even try out?"

Isaac and Scott start laughing much to everyone (save the Sheriff and Melissa's bemusement). Even Lydia is suppressing a knowing smile. Stiles rolls her eyes at the two idiots. "You're right, I'm pretty good," she addresses Kira, "Better than a lot of guys on the team, which is why Coach let me play. But let's just say after one too many sexist comments I may have broken a few noses… one of them being our esteemed captain's. Long story short, I got red carded for a year."

"Not just the season?"

"Nope. It was the championship game. Almost cost us the game, too."

"Brutal."

"Totally worth it though… ooh," she faces the screen. "I'm guessing it's time to meet sourwolf."

 **Stiles and Scott stroll through the woods, trying their best to retrace Scott's footsteps from the previous night. Stumbling down into a creek, Scott helps Stiles across the trippy stones while reliving the excitement from earlier… "I don't - I don't know what it was. It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball." As the stumble back onto more level ground, he turns to her again, "And that's not the only weird thing. I - I can - hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear. Smell things-"**

" **Smell things?" Stiles grimaces. " Like what?"**

" **Like the mint - mojito gum in your pocket."**

" **I don't even have any mint -" she pauses, withdrawing her scavenging hands from her pocket. Shooting Scott a very weirded out look, she asks, "So all this started with a bite?"**

 **Scott of course blows it out of proportion, "What if it's like an infection, like, my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?"**

 **Rolling her eyes at the back of his head, Stiles decides to tease her naive friend. "You know what? I actually think I've heard of this - It's a specific kind of infection."**

" **Are you serious?" Scott stops in his tracks.**

 **Pulling her best serious face, Stiles nods gravely. "Yeah. Yeah, I think it's called...- lycanthropy."**

"That was fast," Isaac says, but then catches the look on Stiles' face and his awe drops. "You were joking weren't you?"

"Maybe… maybe I'm just that awesome."

"Don't be so sure." The comment gets him a playful nudge from Stiles.

 **On screen, Scott freaks out. "What's that? Is that bad?"**

"Really Scott?" Malia looks at him amused.

Parrish chuckles, "Of course the guy who gets turned into a werewolf is the one who has the least knowledge on the supernatural."

Derek grunts, "Now you know my pain."

"Hey, at least I did my research, to help," Stiles protests.

"Which only put you right in the middle of the danger," he rebuts. "Which meant having to keep your ass safe too." And despite his current demeanour emphasising what a burden she had been on him those early days, Stiles can't help the shy smile on her lips as she continues to look at him. "What?" he says, noticing her lingering look. She shakes her head, looking back at the screen. Though the smile doesn't leave her face. And Derek really does enjoy the sight. By the time he tunes back in, the younger version of Stiles and Scott had come to stop...

"... **Okay, obviously I'm kidding," Stiles chuckles, "But if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's 'cause Friday's a full moon."**

"Stiles why do you even know that?" Braeden asks.

Stiles shrugs. "I think I had one of those calendars that printed the lunar cycle."

 **Glancing around, a worried expression takes over Scott's features. "No, I - I could have sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler."**

" **Maybe the killer moved the body," Stiles says nonchalantly.**

 **Crouching low, Scott frantically brushes his fingers through the dried leaves and twigs, in a vain efforts of finding his inhaler. "If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are like 80 bucks." Stiles winces at the thought of having to explain to Melissa why they needed to buy Scott a new inhaler. As she leant back, she caught sight of a dark figure in her periphery.**

Malia and Kira simultaneously announce that Derek really is - or was - creepy, earning both of them a deadly glare. Kira is scared enough of him still to squeak out an apology.

 **Stiles taps Scott's arm, bringing his attention to the figure standing a fair way back from them.**

"Hotter with a beard…"

All eyes turn to Mason who blushes while avoiding their gazes. "Sorry, didn't realise I said that out loud." Noting his best friend laughing quietly at his expense, Mason sends a firm punch his way, satisfied by the girlish squeak that answered.

As the playback resumes, Stiles leans into Derek a little, whispering low enough she's certain the other shifters won't hear, "He's not wrong you know." And damn, doesn't she enjoy the subtle reddening of his cheeks beneath this low light.

 **Derek approaches the pair of them. "What are you doing here? Huh?" He goes without an answer as both Stiles and Scott are too stunned to speak. Coming to halt just a few yards from them, he adds, "This is private property."**

 **Stiles manages to stutter out an apology. But Derek's attention isn't on her, it's on Scott, not that she notices. Scott tries to explain that they were looking for something, but trails off, feeling uncomfortable under Derek's glare. Right as he's about to turn around, Derek tosses something to Scott who catches it thanks to his heightened reflexes. Opening his clasped palm, the object is revealed to be Scott's inhaler. He looks up to see Derek's already taken off.**

Parrish prods at Derek's back, leaning across Stiles when the werewolf looks his way. "Sorry man, but I got to go with Stiles, that was super creepy."

 **Scott shakes off the odd encounter and begins to pull Stiles away, realising he's pushing it close to getting to work on time. Stiles shrugs him off though, her eyes still staring after where Derek disappeared to. "Dude, that was Derek Hale. You remember, right? He's only like a few years older than us."**

 **"Remember what?" asks Scott.**

 **Face full of sympathy, she answers softly, "His family. They all burned to death in a fire, like, ten years ago."**

Until now, Liam and Mason were the only two who had not known about the Hale Fire, both probably too young remember it and not with the pack long enough anything about Derek really. Liam had his suspicions. He knew Derek was born a wolf, knew his family had a great legacy, and knew that only three of them remain. But he'd never questioned Scott or Stiles or anyone for that matter about it. He had sensed the story had to have been tragic, a vague idea he got when he'd begun to learn how to sense chemosignals; he'd sensed guilt and self-loathing and loneliness on Derek the few times they'd interacted but these emotions had been dampened by slow burning contentment, a feeling of peace. If Liam had been more observant he might have noted that these more positive chemosignals reached their peak whenever a certain girl was around.

At this moment, Scott and Stiles are worriedly watching Derek, offering comfort through innocent touches and close proximity - care through nurturing, an instinct that comes most natural to werewolves higher on the pecking order within packs. Though in Stiles' case, it could simply be an attribute of being around werewolves the longest, or being part of Scott's pack the longest. Argent who's been observing her interaction with Derek all night, knows there could be a third reason. Though he'd rather let the pair admit it themselves.

 **At the clinic Scott quickly retreats into the waiting, slamming shut the door standing between himself and the crazy felines.**

"I remember that. It scared the shit out of me," Scott mumbles.

"More than finding your huge bite wound suddenly gone?" Sheriff look at him. Scott shrugs sheepishly.

Malia hushes them, wanting to watch the _movie_. "Uh, Malia, you do realise this is literally a homevideo of our supernatural lives right?"

"Shhh, I like seeing how you guys were like before you met us."

From the corner of his eye, Derek can see the three gods nod subtly to each other, clearly satisfied that this intervention of theirs seems to be having a somewhat positive reception.

 **Scott wonders what's gotten into them, they normally let him cuddle them. Even out here he can still hear the pandemonium of the wild hissing, the metallic clatter of their claws scratching against the cage doors. A loud hammering draws his attention to the entrance. Standing outside banging with her fist, is Allison. She;s rain-soaked, but it's nevertheless clear to see she crying and in visible panic.**

 **Quickly unlocking the door, Scott lets her in as she tries to explain through tears what happened - "I didn't see it. I took my eyes off the road for, like, two seconds to change the song on my iPod, and then this dog, it just came out of nowhere!"**

" **It's all right, it's all right, it's all right, it's all right," Scott repeats himself to try to calm her down but it's not really working. "Do you remember where it happened so I can send Animal Control to find it?"**

" **No! I mean, yes, I know where I hit it, but the dog is -"**

 **Understanding her babbling - he's grown use to babbling girls thanks to Stiles. "Where is it?" he gently inquires.**

 **She points behind her, "It's in my car."**

 **He follows her out to her car, unperturbed by the chilling rain soaking through his clothes. Allison pops the hatch to reveal an injured stray. The creatures barks and snarls at her, and Scott immediately pulls her back. "You okay?" he asks. Allison nods fervently though her expression doesn't seem to match it. "She's just frightened," he tells her.**

 **Allison half smiles, "That makes two of us."**

" **Let me see if I have any better luck." Scott puts himself between her and the dog, crouching low till he's eye level with the growling stray. As their eyes connect, something happens… for the briefest moment, Scott's eyes fade into a strange golden tint. In response, the dog lowers its body submissively, yielding to the obviously dominant animal. With Allison watching in amazement, Scott gathers the dog into his arms and carries him into the vet's office.**

"Dude, seriously how did you not suspect anything?"

Scott stares at the screen, remembering how his eyes had turned golden. "I didn't even remember doing it…"

"It's your instincts taking over," Derek explains. He eyes Scott with an odd look in his eye and a barely there smile, that reminds the True Alpha of the time Derek helped him check Liam in the locker room.

 **Inside Scott gently lays the injured animal down on the examining table. Allison stays back, watching him inspect the dog while petting it, doing an expert job of calming it. He turns to Allison, "I think her leg is broken. I've seen the doctor do plenty of splints. I can do it myself and then give her a painkiller for now." As he glances at her again, he notices her shivering. "Yeah, I have a shirt in my bag."**

 **She shakes her head, "Oh, I don't want to trouble you-" but her words fall on deaf ears as Scott quickly reaches inside his bag for said shirt. Allison takes it with a smile and steps into the hall for privacy. As she's pulling the wet shirt off, Scott catches sight of her bare back.**

Argent glares at the back of the boy's head. "Scott."

"I didn't see anything," he tries to defend himself, but when he turns to look, he can see that Argent's glare isn't quite so heated. He almost laughs at himself at that moment, remembering how once there was a time when Argent would have shot him for so much as thinking about Allison.

 **Quickly looking away, Scott notices the dog staring up at him. "What? I didn't see anything." The dog doesn't look convinced.**

 **Allison comes back into the room. As he finishes the splint. She sends him a nervous smile. "Thanks for doing this. I feel really stupid."**

 **Scott grins at her, tilting his head like a confused puppy. "How come?"**

 **The pretty brunette shrugs, avoiding looking in his eye. "I don't know. 'Cause I freaked out like a total girl."**

" **You are a girl."**

"Nice observation, Scott."

"Lydia be nice," Stiles nudges her, though both send him cheeky smiles as the memories continue to play out.

" **I freaked out like a girly girl, and I'm not a girly girl," Allison elaborates.**

" **What kind of girl are you?  
"Tougher than that. At least, I thought I was."**

Liam pouts. "I've seen Stiles and Malia cry watching the Lion King, and they're not girly. Actually I'm not really sure what Stiles is- hey!" He rubs his head where Malia's upturned leg had socked him.

From her spot, Stiles thanks Malia for gesture, before pointing out that everyone cries watching the Lion King.

"It's like Bambi," Kira adds.

Stiles shakes her head at the asian girl vehemently. "I am never watching Bambi again with Malia."

"Why?"

"Hey Malia, what's your favourite food?"

"Deer," the werecoyote moans out.

Stiles raises a brow at Kira. "I rest my case."

 **Back on screen, Scott tells Allison, "Hey, I'd be freaked out too. In fact, I'd probably cry. And not like a man, either. Like the biggest girly girly ever. It'd be pathetic."**

There's a resounding chorus of "Awww," from all the girls and Mason.

Derek snorts, earning an elbow to the side from Scott, though it does nothing to wipe the amusement from his face at the kid.

 **Allison laughs, "Yeah, right."**

 **Scott stares at her like a lovesick puppy, her laughter like music to his hears. "So - It looks like she's gonna live. And I'm pretty sure she'll even let you pet her now, if you want."**

" **I don't think so," she shakes her head.**

" **Oh, come on. You don't want her to sue. I hear this breed is very litigious."**

The comment garnes a few noises of surprise. Scott huffs at the underlying implication.

 **Allison approaches, tentatively reaching out to stroke the dog's neck. Calm now, the dog even licks her hand. "You see? She likes you." He watches Allison. Unable to take his eyes off her.**

 **Noticing him staring, she asks, "What?"**

 **He blushes bright crimson at being caught. "Uh. Sorry. You have an eyelash on your cheek."**

" **Oh. It's from the crying." She wipes at her cheek. But the lash is still there. Scott shakes his head. She tries again. Still there. So Scott reaches with his thumb to brush the lash from her cheek. Their eyes stay connected as they share the sweet moment.**

Derek's nose crinkles. He can see Isaac and Liam doing the same, while Scott tries to bury his face. It can't be helped though. The intimate moment had thrown all of the females - save Melissa and Noshiko's - pheromones into overdrive. The werewolves could smell the attraction. Malia is obviously too enraptured in the scene to pay attention to the fact that she's practically bleeding with subtle attraction and want too. In fact, hers might actually be the strongest next to Kira's. Derek studies his younger cousin for second, storing this facet of knowledge for another time. It may take a while to get to, but something tells him he should pay more attention to her interactions with the True Alpha as the memories proceed. Angling towards his right side, Derek is forced to inhale the non-platonic chemosignals attached to Lydia, Braeden and Stiles. It's the latter of the three that brings out a reaction within him of disgust and disappointment, but rather than put distance between them, he finds himself leaning into her, ever so subtly taking in more of her scent. It takes him another moment to realise that whatever she's feeling isn't for Scott but moreso a want to have _someone_ in her life, love her the way Scott loved Allison.

When Derek finally returns his attention to the screen, he can see he's missed a bit, not much. It look like Scott's been successful in asking Allison to the party Lydia and Jackson had mentioned, and now they were all back in his room. But not for long.

 **Scott falls back onto his bed, head hitting the pillow. Clearly exhausted, he nevertheless wears a huge grin on his face. His eyelids slowly close as he falls instantly asleep. Slowly he turns over on his side, rolling over and strangely onto... a bed of wet leaves, causing him to wake suddenly and discover he's no longer in bed. Now fully awake and very alarmed, Scott, clothed only his boxers, scrambles out from beneath a cave-like overhang. Walking through the fog-laden woods, he turns to finds his bearings. But something catches his attention. Something large and black, with crimson eyes. The wolf. Half naked and very cold now, Scott backs away. Picking up his pace he breaks out into a run, hurtling into the fog and the woods. The creature moves through the woods with more grace, keeping pace with him. Running faster and faster in terror while glancing to his side to see the strange silhouette racing with him, Scott seems to not merely be running but moving with almost supernatural speed until finally the world around him blurs a little. In front of his a low wooden fence. Pushing himself, Scott launches over high over it. The next second he's underwater, thrashing about. Bursting to the surface he find himself in some surbubran backyard pool. Gasping for breath, he twists around in the water to find the home owner watering his plant, staring at him. "Uh... Good morning."**

Isaac stares at the screen, surprised and fear written on his face. "That never happened to me," he turns to Derek. "Peter?" he asks his former Alpha, receiving twin nods from both Derek and Scott. Scott clears his throat, "Peter was trying to call me out, get me to join his pack. Officially, I mean."

Kira looks between all of them. "I'm confused." Judging by Malia and the freshmans' expressions they are too.

Derek explains, "When a werewolf is bitten, they have a unique connection to their Alpha. In a way it's sort of a compulsion or mind link. Some werewolves seek out their Alphas-"

"Which is why when you went missing for three days-" Stiles interrupts, looking at Lydia, "we thought you went to the Hale house, looking for Peter or Derek."

Derek nods and continues, "In Scott's case, he had no idea what was happening to him. And Peter's mind was still repairing itself. So the only way he could draw Scott out was when he was fully shifted - it was when he was at his strongest."

"Why was he trying to draw you out?" Liam asks.

"To get me to join his pack. Werewolves are stronger in numbers. And Peter wanted to be strong enough for his plans to work." At this Scott looks pointedly at the screen, dismissing further questions. Scott's made a lot of mistakes, done things he's not proud of. The kid he was when he was first bitten was scared and desperate; he'd neglected his friends and hurt them; he'd wanted to kill. Sensing his anxiety, Kira curls into him more, offering him her warmth, her comfort. He takes it; the past week without her had been a nightmare and he hates himself for not trusting her when she so clearly wasn't in control of herself; now knowing what he'll be forced to confront a version of himself he'd thought he'd buried, he knows he was wrong to judge her so harshly. To judge any of them. He hopes they could forgive him.

 **The hallways of BHHS are seemingly empty. Scott, geared up for practice, shoves his bag into his locker and slams it shut. He turns to find himself staring right at Jackson.**

" **All right, little man. How 'bout you tell me where you're getting your juice," Jackson demands, eyes narrowed with determination.**

" **What?"**

" **Where. Are. You. Getting. Your juice?" Jackson demands slowly, as if talking to a five year old.**

 **An utterly bewildered Scott replies, "My mom does all the grocery shopping."**

"Oh Scott, honey," his mother leans over him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his head. "My sweet, naive, little boy."

Trying to pull away from, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, everyone laughing at his expense, he whines, "Mo-om."

Lydia rolls her eyes, "I cannot believe you're doing AP biology, now," she quips, though it's neither biting nor scathing, just her usual good-natured sass. He really sometimes regrets that she and Stiles ever became friends. Those two can be a scary power couple in their own right.

 **Jackson just stares at Scott a moment, trying to decide whether this kid is screwing with him or not.**

" **Listen, McCall - You're gonna tell me exactly what it is and who you're buying it from, because there's no way in hell you're out there kicking ass on the field like that without some sort of chemical boost."**

 **Something finally clicks in Scott's head. "Oh, you mean steroids." Then not so discreetly giving Jackson a once over, her asks, "Are you on steroids?"**

"Did you just look out his dick?" Stiles poses.

"No!"

She doesn't look convinced.

"Knock it off Stiles," her dad playfully shoves her despite his stern tone.

 **Pissed now, Jackson shoves Scott against the lockers. "What the hell is going on with you, McCall?"**

 **Overwhelmed, Scott snaps, words coming out in a torrent - "What's going on with me? You really wanna know? Well, so would I! Because I can see, hear, and smell things that I shouldn't be able to see, hear, and smell. I do things that should be impossible, I'm sleepwalking three miles into the middle of the woods, and I'm pretty much convinced that I'm totally out of my freaking mind!" His head drops back against the locker, gasping for breath. It looks like he really needed to vent.**

 **Jackson looks at him like he's a freak before he chuckles venomously a moment. "You think you're funny - Don't you, McCall? I know you're hiding something. I'm gonna find out what it is. I don't care how long it takes." Jackson slams his fist against the locker, leaving Scott stunned as he heads out.**

"He was an asshole," Isaac mutters.

"A hot one though, I'll give him that," Malia remarks. Scott, Isaac and Derek look at her oddly. "Objectively speaking, he is!" she defends herself.

"Oh come off it guys," Stiles defends. "It's true. I'll admit I definitely thought about him once or twice freshman year."

"Stiles!" Scott and her dad whine. "I told you to never give me that much information about you in bed again!" Scott complains.

"I wasn't in bed… it was the shower," she smirks evilly.

The Sheriff shoots them a glare. "Why are you and my daughter discussing her in bed... Or the shower ever in the first place?" Scott clams up and pivots forward. Stiles starts laughing, catching his eye. Her smile is soft, but there's no denying the hurt she still feels towards him.

 **On the lacrosse field, Scott's finishing gearing up and about to run onto the field when a very, very late Stiles comes scrambling up to him. She almost trips over her feet a few times but she manages to survive the run. "Scott! Scott, wait up!" She tries to pull him back.**

" **Stiles, I'm playing the first elimination, man - Can it wait?" He tries to leave, but she hauls him back by his collar again. "Just hold on, okay? I overheard my dad on the phone. The fiber analysis came back from the lab in L.A. They found animal hairs on the body from the woods!"**

" **Stiles, I gotta go."**

" **Wait, no! Scott! You're not gonna believe what the animal was!" The whistle blows, and Scott manages to tear away from her grasp. He runs to join the others, completely ignoring Stiles mumble fearfully, " It was a wolf."**

"Stiles, you do realise it's illegal to listen in on police radio," Parrish tells her.

She sends him a pained smile. "Parrish, if you're going to arrest me, it'll be for far worse crimes."

That tension in the cave increased tenfold though Isaac, Parrish, Braeden, Melissa, Noshiko and Kira still seem to be out of the loop. Whether Lydia is bemused or not, she doesn't let on. Stiles would bet that Lydia's figured out her secret at some point though.

 **On the field, the coach shouts for the players, "Let's go! Gather round! Bring it in, come on! Come on!"**

 **Scott notices Allison at the bleachers with Lydia. She gives him a wave and a smile. He holds up a hand to wave back. "Got a question, McCall?" Coach asks stepping up to him.**

" **What?"**

" **You raised your hand. You have a question?"**

" **Oh - No. I was just, uh - Nothing. Sorry."**

 **Ignoring him, Coach turns to the rest of the team. "Okay. You know how this goes. If you don't make the cut, you're most likely sitting on the bench for the rest of the season. You make the cut - You play. Your parents are proud. Your girlfriend loves ya! Huh? Everything else is, uh - Cream cheese. Now, get out there and show me whatcha got! Come on!"**

 **The whistle blows. The game begins. When the ball gets passed to Scott, Jackson comes right after him, his stick smacking down on Scott's gloves, sending him tumbling forward into the ground, kicking up dirt around him. Glowering down at him, Jackson grabs the ball while Scott, teeth clenched behind his mask, pushes himself up off the ground.**

 **The whistle blows again. Scott and Jackson find themselves staring across from each other at the draw, crouched down with their sticks and the ball between them. They tense, holding absolutely still. Then, at the whistle, moving with incredible speed, Scott grabs the ball right out from under Jackson.**

 **On the benches Stiles moves to the sidelines to watch; she's nerve-wracked, worry bleeding through tho her features. Cutting back across to the action, Scott charges the length of the field. One of the players on defense lashes out with their sticks, but Scott parries expertly. Jackson catches up and makes a furious stab at stealing the ball. With defense converging on him, Scott twists his lacrosse stick around to protect the ball, and launches himself over the players in one fluid somersault. Feet landing on the turf, he whirls around, tossing the ball in an over the shoulder shot straight into the net.**

 **The crowd in the bleachers comes alive, cheering on the underdog; Allison's among them. Everyone's cheering. Everyone except Stiles.**

"You don't look happy," Mason says.

"That's because I'm pretty sure my best friend just turned into a very deadly creature of the night," she replies.

"Yeah but, the most you actually saw was the heightened reflexes and and senses. Not the weird stuff at the clinic… did you know about the sleepwalking?"

She shakes her head. "Call it a gut feeling. Wolves don't exist in California. And yet Scott was bit by one, the same one that killed La-" she catches Derek's eye and realises he probably wants those not in the know to learn about Laura as the visions come, so he can avoid having to talk about it and then relive it. "-the woman," she corrects herself before Mason can really notice. "That and the fact that he could do that-" she nods at the screen, referring to his amazing performance. "You saw what he was like as a human. Severe asthma and all. It would take a miracle to turn him from a wheezing wallflower to star of the Lacrosse team."

"A miracle or something supernatural," Braeden adds.

" **McCall!" Coach calls, "Get over here!" Scott trots over to him. "What in God's name was that? This is a lacrosse field. What, are you trying out for the gymnastics team?"**

" **No Coach," Scott answers, clearly confused by the man's attitude.**

" **What the hell was that?"**

"... why is he angry?" Noshiko asks.

"He's not," Kira answers.

"Are you sure?"

"That's just Coach," all the players seem to reply simultaneously.

Stiles slaps Isaac's arm. "Hey! Now you're back, you're going to be on the team, right?"

"Hell yeah," he grins wide, like the adorkable puppy he is. He then casts his eyes over to Liam. "Going to give the new runts a run for their money." Liam gulps but narrows his eyes.

"Save the puppy brawl for some other time," Derek mutters.

 **Scott replies, "I don't know. I - just trying to make the shot."**

" **Yeah, well, you made the shot. And guess what? You're startin', buddy. You made first line."**

 **Cheers erupt around him. As team members slap him on the back and knock his helmet with their gloves, a deliriously happy Scott doesn't even notice Jackson's furious stare. Or Stiles. Watching with a very worried look.**

"Oh god, you have that look," the sheriff groans.

Stiles' curiosity is piqued. "What look?"

"The one that says you're going on a research bender."

"... that's not a thing," she mutters. However it's a losing bet given the scene changes to the sixteen year old version of her, up to her nose in research. Everyone chuckles.

 **Her fingers fly across the keypad, her eyes scrolling through pages and pages of mythology. As her room darkens under the setting sun, an increasingly panicked Stiles studies a printout of a detailed wood carving depicting a medieval hunter standing over the body of a werewolf, aiming a crossbow at the creature. He pulls the page out, staring at it with a look of escalating fear. She's startled by the sound of someone knocking on her bedroom door. Leaping out of her chair, she rushes to the door, unlocking it to find Scott standing out in the hall with a stupid grin plastered on his face.**

" **Get in. You gotta see this thing. I've been up all night reading - websites, books. All this information."**

 **Scott looks at her with a knowing smile, "How much Adderall have you had today?"**

" **A lot. Doesn't matter. Okay, just listen."**

" **Oh, is this about the body? Did they find out who did it?" Scott says, throwing his bag on her bed and taking a seat on the edge.**

 **Stiles turns to him with a handful of pages. "No, they're still questioning people, even Derek Hale."**

" **Oh, the guy in the woods that we saw the other day."**

" **Yeah! Yes. But that's not it, okay?" Stiles says hurriedly, frustratedly almost.**

 **Scott looks at her wide-eyed, surprised by her odd behaviour. "What, then?"**

" **Remember the joke from the other day? Not a joke anymore." Scott tilts his head, confused. "The wolf - the bite in the woods," she reminds him. "I started doing all this reading. Do you even know why a wolf howls?" she asks standing up.**

" **Should I?"**

" **It's a signal, okay? When a wolf's alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack of 'em.**

" **A whole pack of wolves?"**

" **No - Werewolves."**

 **Annoyed, Scott stands up, demanding, "Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour." He tries to pick up his bag to leave, but Stiles hand comes up to his chest to stop him.**

" **I-I saw you on the field today, Scott. Okay, what you did wasn't just amazing, all right? It was impossible."**

" **Yeah, so I made a good shot."**

" **No, you made an incredible shot, I mean - The way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. Y'know, People can't just suddenly do that overnight. And there's the vision and the senses, and don't even think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore." Her words were getting faster, more high-strung as the situation begins to really set into her mind.**

 **But to Scott, it's all just her crazy rambling. "Okay! Dude, I can't think about this now. We'll talk tomorrow."**

 **When Scott tries to bypass her again, she pushes him back. "Tomorrow?! What? No! The full moon's tonight. Don't you get it?"**

 **Patience running thin, he shouts at her, "What are you trying to do? I just made first line. I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?"**

 **Stiles' face falls. Her eyes are pleading with him desperate. "I'm trying to help. You're cursed, Scott." She collapses onto her desk chair. "You know, and it's not just the moon will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak."**

 **Scott just looks at her blankly. "Bloodlust?" he questions, unbearably calm.**

" **Yeah, your urge to kill."**

 **In that same calm tone, Scott points out, "I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles."**

"Stiles, honey. Please tell me you hightailed it out of there. No offence, Scott," Melissa puts to her pseudo daughter, a nervously hopeful glint in her eye. Stiles sheepishly bows her head.

 **Stiles rifles through the pages before finding the one she'd been looking for. "You gotta hear this. '** _ **The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.'**_ **All right? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date. I'm gonna call her right now." Stiles reaches for his bag, to find his phone.**

" **What are you doing?"**

 **Retrieving his phone, she answers, "I'm canceling the date."**

" **No, give it to me!"**

 **She tries to duck away from Scott's grabby hands. What she hadn't expected was for him to shove her against the wall. His fist is still raised as if to strike her but he pulls back at the last second, instead lashing out at the desk chair, sending it flying across the ground. Shaking with anger Scott looks up at Stiles. The sight of her snaps him out of it - the sheer terror in her wide eyes. She'd sunk down a bit and he tries to help her up, but she flinches from him. A pained expression crosses his face at the action. "I'm sorry," he tells her, but she can barely even look at him right now. "I-I gotta go… get ready for that party…" he mumbles, eyes running over her, trying to assess the damage. Physically she seems fine, emotionally though… "Stiles," he whispers, pleading for her to look at him. She can't. He takes that as a silent dismissal. He moves away from her picking his bag and phone dropped on the floor. Reaching her door her turns back one last time. She's still standing there in the corner, curled in on herself. "I'm sorry," he mutters and leaves. When he's gone, Stiles finally steps away from the wall, her gaze on the door. When she finally drops it, it lands on her fallen chair, revealing three long slash marks.**

"Scott Antonio McCall! I cannot believe you just left her like that!"

"Scott what the hell were you thinking?"

"I-I wasn't thinking straight. I'm sorry," he tries in vain to defend himself to his mom and the sheriff. But honestly he knows it was wrong of him.

He doesn't expect Stiles to be the one to try placate his mother. "Melissa it's fine-"

"It's not fine! What if he hurt you?" Melissa looks over at her pseudo-daughter with concern. Her poor baby girl.

Stiles tries to brush it off like it wouldn't have mattered, though Isaac unhelpfully points out, "You definitely didn't look alright with it back then."

Without looking at the blonde werewolf, she tells him, "Could you at least try to be helpful?" Focussing back on Melissa and her dad, she says, "Scott didn't mean it. It was just the full moon."

"It was reckless," Argent chips in. "You shouldn't have put yourself in that position," he chastises her lightly, but the concern is clear in his voice.

Stiles rolls her eyes at the parents. "Well… you guys are definitely not going to enjoy the rest of these visions."

"Stiles…"

"Dad..." she imitates him.

"If it makes you guys feel better, this isn't anything compared to when I was about to tear Stiles to shreds during the full moon and she decided to unchain me anyway," Malia pipes up.

Stiles groans. No one knew that.

"Stiles!"

"Play. Play. For the love of god, keep playing!"

 **Back in his bedroom, Scott's exits the private bathroom a towel around his waist. He startles when he sees Melissa. "Mom!"**

 **She smiles at him, "Is this a party or a date?"**

 **He smiles shyly, "Maybe both."**

 **She holds up her car keys, "And her name is -"**

" **Allison," he breathes, as if the word is like the most glorious dessert he's ever had.**

" **Allison," Melissa nods, smiling. "Nice."**

 **She hands him the keys, which he receives gratefully, smacking a kiss onto her cheek, "Thank you."**

" **We don't need to have a talk, do we?" she asks him.**

 **Immediately Scott tenses up. "Mom, I'm not having the safe sex talk with you."**

 **Wrong thing to say. Melissa freaks out. "Oh, my God. No, I meant about keeping the tank full. Give me those back," she gestures with an open palm for him to return the keys.**

 **Choked up, Scott stutters, "Are you serious?"**

" **You bet your ass I am serious. I'm not gonna end up on some reality television show with a pregnant 16 - year - old. Come on!"**

Chris looks at Melissa. "You didn't want to have the sex talk with your hormonal teenage son?"

She narrows her eyes. "No judging," she points at him. "I know my son. He's not the type of boy to sleep with someone he barely knows."

 **The scene quickly breezes through Scott picking up Allison and arriving at the party. Teenagers jam the outside of the house by the pool. Some already drunk, some high. Scott and Allison walk through the crowd. But Scott pauses when he hears a dog barking. It's a huge rottweiler in the yard next door just beyond a chain link fence. And it's barking at Derek. He stands behind the fire pit, staring straight at Scott. But then he shoots a look at the Rottweiler. The dog stops barking instantly. Eyes locked on the animal, Derek gives an almost imperceptible nod. Tail between its legs, the Rottweiler submissively lowers to a sitting position. Satisfied, Derek turns back to a surprised Scott.**

"Cuz, you might actually be creepier than Peter," Malia says.

Derek makes a sound of protest, but is - funnily enough - placated by Stiles' muffled giggles.

" **You okay?" Allison asks, drawing Scott's attention away from Derek.**

" **What? Yeah. I'm fine." When he looks back, Derek is gone. Movement catches his eye and he glances up to the roof of the pool house. A shadowy figure disappears just past the chimney. Scott steps back, trying to see if he actually did just witness Derek leaping twenty feet off the ground. But there's nothing there. And Allison is holding her hand out to him. Letting his fear go, Scott takes her hand with a smile. In the crowd, they start dancing. As they come closer and closer, as Allison starts to smile back at him, the usually timid Scott begins to let go. His hands reach around her waist with the other teens pushing them closer. Bodies pressed against each other, her cheek brushes lightly against his.**

 **Scott notices Lydia dancing with Jackson, grinding close to him, her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. She presses her lips to Jackson's locking him in a passionate kiss. As Jackson's lips move to her neck, her attention becomes solely focussed on Scott.**

"Uh… Lyd?"

"I was drunk… and different person."

 **Scott peers into Allison's eyes. And for a second it almost looks as though they're about to kiss. Then the music begins driving faster, starting to sound almost like the quickening of a heartbeat. Scott's heartbeat. The sounds around him intensify. His fingers clench back, veins at the surface of his hands as he presses against the fabric of Allison's shirt. His upper lip pulls up momentarily to reveal a sharpened incisor. Scott's breathing tightens, sweat at his temples. He steps back, pulling away from her.**

" **Are you okay?" she asks worriedly.**

" **I'll be right back." He hurries past her into the house. Teeth clenched, a sudden wave of pain slams Scott back against the wall, tremors shuddering through his body. He ignores everyone, including Stiles, who tries to check on him. Scott pushes through the crowd, trying to find an exit out of the house. Finally, shoving past people, he charges out the front door. He glances up to the sky where the full moon shines brilliantly in the night. Gasps now starting to sound like animalistic growls, he reaches his mother's car, struggling to find the keys in his pocket. A second later, the car tears away from the curb just as Allison comes out of Lydia's house, looking around. No idea where Scott is.**

Isaac looks at him. "You ditched her?"

"If I didn't… I think I would have killed her."

Isaac nods at him emphatically, recalling the incident from the storage closet. If Scott hadn't let him out… he shivers at the thought of what he would have done to Allison; but then a wave of grief overcomes him, remembering she still died. ' _But she went out fighting, the way she would have wanted.'_

" **Allison." The brunette turns at the mention of her name. She takes in the tall and dark figure of Derek Hale. "I'm a friend of Scott's." Allison glances down the road where Scott disappeared, then returns her attention to Derek. He draws closer to her, shooting her his winning smile, "My name's Derek."**

Argent growls - actually growls - Derek's name, below his breath. Derek raises his hands in defence. "I was making sure she was okay… and trying get her scent to bring Scott to me."

Argent doesn't like the idea that his daughter was being used like that… but he knows the man Derek is now, and knows that he probably would never have harmed Allison back then.

 **Scott stumbles into his darkened room, slamming the door shut and flipping the lock. Sweat at his brow, he runs into the bathroom. Flipping the cold water knob on the shower, Scott sits in the tub, letting it pour over him. It's then he notices his fingernails are different. Bone-like claws push out in their place.**

 **Someone pounds at his door.**

" **Go away."**

" **Scott, it's me," comes Stiles' voice.**

"Wow, you still went to him, after he almost killed you earlier?" Mason asks.

"He's my best friend."

Present tense. Scott focuses on this fact.

 **Hearing the panic in his friend's voice, Scott pulls himself up. He unlocks the door but only allows it to open an inch. "Let me in, Scott. I can help," she tries to push the door further.**

" **No! Listen, you gotta find Allison."**

" **She's fine, all right? I saw her get a ride from the party. She's - she's totally fine, all right?"**

" **No, I think I know who it is."**

" **You just let me in. We can try -"**

" **It's Derek. Derek Hale is the werewolf. He's the one that bit me. He's the one that killed the girl in the woods."**

 **Stiles answers with shocked silence. But then finds the strength in her to tell him… "Scott - Derek's the one who drove Allison from the party."**

 **The weight of realization falling on him, Scott slams the door shut, locking it. Ignoring Stiles' protests outside.**

 **Through the open bedroom window, Scott launches himself out from the second story. The full moon looming in the sky behind him, his hands slam down on the wet pavement revealing that what we'd just seen was the reflection of his leaping figure in a puddle. Now, Scott's crouched figure slowly draws up to reveal he's no longer struggling against the transformation.**

 **Gleaming yellow eyes, incisors reformed into fangs, ears tapered to points over thickened, wilder hair and fingernails grown to razor sharp claws. The sixteen year-old boy is gone. He's given into his wolf.**

 **The scene shifts to a grand suburban home. Stiles' jeep swerves to a stop, before the girl herself stumbles out the door. She's at the front door in no time, pounding on the door, stopping only once the porch lights open. Seconds later, she hears the familiar click of the latch and the door swings open, revealing Victoria Argent.**

Chris inhales quickly. He can't ignore the love and anger that rises within him and the sight of his late wife; he knows she never had a choice, knows that if she didn't kill herself (if he hadn't helped her) she'd have been hunted by her own mother. And yet… a part of him likes to think that maybe they could have hidden. Kate managed it. Allison would have had her mother… Chris might still have both of them. On his right, the Sheriff pats his shoulder, shooting him an empathetic smile. On his left, Melissa loops her arms through his, squeezing his bicep gently, to comfort him.

" **Hi, Mrs. Argent," Stiles awkwardly waves. She wastes no time launching into rambling, babbling monologue… "Um - You have no idea who I am. I'm a friend of your daughter's. Uh - Look, this is gonna sound kind of crazy, um - Really crazy, actually. You know what? Crazy doesn't even describe -"**

" **Allison! It's for you," Victoria cuts her off. The brunette appears atop the stairs.**

" **Stiles?"**

" **Allison!?"**

 **The girl makes her way downstairs. Victoria leaves the girls to themselves. "I'm guessing you're here to cover for Scott?"**

" **Uh… no?" Allison shoots her a disbelieving look. "I mean it. Dude ran out on you. If he wants this to work, he's going to have to explain himself to you… that said, I still would give him another chance if I were you."**

 **Allison studies her a moment before asking, "Why?"**

" **Well… he's a good person. Like a really good person. He's probably a bigger boy-scout than Superman." Allison chuckles at the odd comment. Smiling Stiles goes on, "I'm being serious. Scotty has a heart of gold. He's not like other guys. He's not some egotistical asshole of a jock. He loves animals and dotes on his mom and is probably the most painfully honest and morally bland person I know. And he likes you. A lot. Hasn't shut up about this date all week. So whatever happened at the party tonight… just know that he never meant to hurt you."**

Stiles catches Scott's attention on her. "Scott, this is me noticing you staring."

He rubs his neck, bashfully. "Sorry… I just, I didn't know you said all that stuff to her. She probably wouldn't have given me a second chance if you didn't." Stiles shrugs as if it were no big deal. "Did you mean it?" he asks, this time voice lower and softer. When she looks at Scott again, she can see the vulnerability in his face. There's this sort of hopeful glint in his eye, like he wants to believe he really is as good a person as she had described him two years back but at the same time a large part of him is afraid it's not true. The corners of her lips turn up. "Of course I meant it, Scotty," she answers truthfully, then in a lower, softer voice, "I still mean it."

His brown eyes soften at her admission. They forget about the others, solely tuned into the silent reparation of their friendship. Behind them, Melissa and Noah catch each others' gazes. Melissa mouths to him, ' _Our kids will be okay.'_

 **The older girl seems to truly meditate on Stiles words. "I'll hear him out," she confirms after a few quiet moments. Stiles releases a relieved breath. "So, uh, if you didn't come here to cover for Scott, why did you come here?"**

" **Oh… I wanted to make sure you got home alright."**

 **Allison smiles at her genuinely. "Thanks." She then pushes the door open wider. "Do you want to come in for a while? It's still pretty early and I was planning on rewatching the season 5 finale of Supernatural."**

 **Stiles still looks unsure but then Allison throws in a "Please" that's kind of hard to ignore because she has these puppy eyes just like Scott.**

 **She sighs, "I guess I could stick around for an hour or two." And by god, doesn't Allison's face light up like a christmas tree at that. "Just one question though," she throws at the older girl.**

" **Yeah?"**

" **Sam or Dean?"**

"Oh those boys are sexy as fuck," Lydia moans.

Stiles rolls her eyes. "It took forever to convince you to watch that show."

"And finally look what did it, showing me a picture of Jared Padalecki shirtless."

Parrish looks at Derek and mouths the word 'Padalecki' in question. Derek shrugs. "Must be Polish," he surmises quietly behind the girls' back.

Isaac pipes in, "Is it weird I think Mary was hot. Both of them?"

"No," Stiles says. "I think John's hot, even if he turned out to be an asshole of a dad."

Isaac nods contemplatively but then asks, "Which John?"

"Uh, both. Jeffrey Dean Morgan is amazing."

Lydia rolls her eyes. "Please we both know you prefer Matt Cohen because he looks lik-" Lydia's cut of by Stiles' hand over her mouth. "Lydia you can lick all you want, I'm not removing my- Ow! You bit me!"

"Uh guys," Mason awkwardly calls out to them. "Mind if we get back to the visions."

"Right."

Then as if to have the last word and tease Stiles, Mason adds, "Oh and Stiles, Matt really does look like _him_."

 **Charging out from the shadows, Scott lands on a moonlit fallen tree. Clawed hands resting on the dead trunk, his breath comes out in steamy gasps. His crouched and silhouetted body twists around, trying to catch a scent in the air. Racing into a clearing, Scott slows, looking up to Allison's jacket hanging by a loose branch. Something moves in the shadows. Scott whirls around, launching himself up just as Derek emerges from the shadows dragging him back to the ground. They almost look like dogs grappling as they go up and then slam back down to the leaves and brush below them. Derek holds him down, one hand wrapped around Scott's throat. He's unchanged in the full moon, except for the cold steel blue of his true eyes.**

"Nice control," Argent comments.

The other adults look a bit put out by this comment. Sheriff looks between Argent and Derek, then asks, "Don't born werewolves have good control?"

"Not all the time," Derek answers honestly.

"But back then," Melissa nods at the screen, "It would have come more natural?"

Derek nods but then searching Argents eyes, adds, "That's not what he meant though. He meant my circumstances at that time weren't... ideal. I was dealing with a rogue Alpha and an uncontrollable new beta, among other things -" he then meets the Sheriff's eyes, the older man remembering exactly what had brought Derek back to Beacon Hills. "On top of that, were the hunters. If there was ever a time for me to lose control, it would have been then." They all take it in silence before returning their attention to the screen once again. Stiles squeezes her hand in Derek's and begins to draw lazy circles onto his skin subconsciously.

 **Scott struggles against Derek. "Where is she?"**

" **She's safe. From you."**

" **What did you do with her?" Scott demands but Derek is paying him no mind anymore, his attention focussed solely on their surroundings. Then he cursed under his breath. Letting Scott up, he tells him, "It's too late. They're already here. Run."**

 **A second later Derek is on his feet, moving so fast he's almost a blur. Scott barely has time to react when arrow comes soaring out of the darkness. As the bolt hits a nearby tree, it explodes with brilliant flash. Scott stumbles back, yellow eyes blinking furiously. His focuses drifts between total blackout and the red haze of his wolfy night vision. Then suddenly out of the darkness, another arrow embeds itself in Scott's forearm, pinning him to a tree. He whimpers in pain, looking up into the distance to spot three figures emerge from the shadows. Silhouettes at first, they approach with purpose. The leader wields a crossbow. Lowering it, this leader steps out of the shadows, revealing his face.**

Isaac whistles, "Nice entrance, Argent."

Chris rolls his eyes, throwing out his leg, to lightly kick the tall werewolf who returns the gesture with a playful smirk. At the hunter's side, Melissa freezes. Then ever so slowly and hesitantly, begins to withdraw her arm. Before she can get very far, he brings his hand to settle atop her finger rested on his bicep. They share a silent look, of him asking for her forgiveness for his past enmity with her son. For half second she does nothing but stares at him with narrowed eyes. But then they soften, her rose lips curving into a sweet smile.

 **Without peeling his eyes from the beta, Scott orders his men to take him. Before the hunters can move an inch, a shadowed figure quickly disposes of them, leaving only Chris to spin around, gun at hand, searching the trees for their attacker. Derek uses this time to free Scott. Throwing the young beta forward, he hisses for him to run. Scott charges forward, racing out of the clearing and back into the woods with Derek right behind him. They keep going for some time, but Scott eventually slows. He staggers to a stop in the woods,dropping against a tree, gasping for breath. Underneath his damp hair, his face is back to normal, human once again. When he looks up, Derek steps out of the darkness to face him. He doesn't breathe hard at all, in perfect control of his abilities.**

" **Who were they?" the young beta demands to know.**

" **Hunters. The kind that have been hunting us for centuries."**

" **Us?" Scott looks at him, caught somewhere between mad and incredulous. "You mean you! You did this to me!"**

 **Despite the sixteen year old's outburst, Derek maintains a cool facade. "Is it really so bad, Scott? That you can see better - Hear more clearly, move faster than any human could ever hope?" Derek had been slowly inching towards Scott as he spoke, till he finally stood over him. "You've been given something that most people would kill for. The bite is a gift."**

" **I don't want it."**

" **You will. And you're gonna need me if you want to learn how to control it. So you and me, Scott - We're brothers now."**

"Oh god," Stiles groans. She turns to both of them, "You two…. I don't even… seriously no wonder Liam didn't want our help. I can't believe you used Derek's words!"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Scott explains.

"No. No it was stupid, all of the time. Are you forgetting the fact that we didn't trust Derek at all till like the end of Sophomore year, because he said and did stupid and vague things like that!"

Derek growls lowly.

"Oh shush," Stiles tells him. "You were there when he tried to proposition Liam. It was pitiful."

"I'm with Stiles on this one," Liam chips in. "You sounded pretty creepy. Although if we're talking about trust issues, I'd say it's probably because the three of you kidnapped me."

Stiles sighs a sigh of annoyance. "Liam for the last time. Scott kidnapped you. Derek and I-"

"Only aided and abetted, yeah I know," Liam finishes.

Isaac perks at this somehow. He looks between Scott and Liam. "Wait you bit him?"

Scott nods. He then glances at the gods in the corner. "I'm guessing that's something we'll eventually see down the track though."

They deities nod silently.

 **Allison's front door opens and Stiles exits, stopping on the porch. She checks her phone again but there's still no messages from Scott. "Everything okay?" Allison voices behind her.**

" **Yeah. Everything's fine."**

" **You sure you keep checking your phone every little while. Is something wrong?"**

" **It's nothing really. What about you," Stiles quickly deflects, turning the attention back on the Argent. "You sure you're okay? Want me to punch Scott for you?"**

 **Allison chuckles but shakes her head. "Listen, I just wanted to say thanks."**

" **For what?" Stiles asks, genuinely unaware.**

" **I thought I was going to spend the night stuffing my face in a bowl of ice cream and crying over some guy I barely knew," Allison replies, embarrassed to admit this fact obviously. "It's so stupid. I'm not really that person. And that's not the point," she shakes her head. Smiling at Stiles, she goes on, "The point is, I'm really glad you came over."**

" **Any time."**

" **Well… how about tomorrow?"**

" **Tomorrow?"**

" **Lydia wants to take me shopping as a way to 'christen' our friendship. Want to come too?"**

" **I don't know… Lydia's sort of the it-girl and I'm…"**

" **You're my friend. And so is Lydia. So be default, the two of you are each other new best friend. Or at least you will be."**

Stiles and Lydia share a look, communicating silently how true Allison's statement had been. Despite Stiles having admired and envied Lydia since they were kids, she'd never had thought they could be friends, best friends. But then everything changed because of Allison.

 **Stiles chuckles, "I don't think it works that way."**

 **Allison clasps her hands like beggar woman, "Please. Pretty please. It'll be so much fun. And I think you both will get along."**

 **Stiles rolls her eyes at Allison's adorableness. She can see why Scott likes her. "With a smile like that, I doubt you get a lot of no's."**

" **I take it that's a yes," Allison says.**

" **Yes indeedy."**

 **Allison jumps at her with a quick hug. Then quickly pulls back. "Sorry it's just… I never really get to make friends because we're always moving, but my parents promised me Beacon would be our last stop till I graduate."**

 **Stiles nods, a look of understanding crossing her features. "I totally get it. I mean not the moving part. But the whole friends thing…" she waves her hand randomly.**

" **What about Scott?"**

" **Scott's my brother from another mother. I'm lucky to have him," Stiles smiles gently, her mind drifting for a moment, before returning to Allison. "Besides him though… no one really wants to be friends with the Sheriff's daughter. They think I'll just be a buzzkill. And the ADHD and LaCrosse thing don't really get me very many brownie points either. "**

" **Well it doesn't bother me. My parents stockpile guns." Realising what she just said, Allison clarifies, "My dad sells firearms to law enforcement and military."**

 **Stiles gawks at her. "That is so cool!"**

" **You think? A lot of people think it's weird that I'm a kind of a walking encyclopaedia on guns."**

 **Stiles shrugs. "Hey my dad's a cop. We're down at the gun range every other Sunday, since I was ten. I totally get it."**

 **Allison laughs. "Soo, tomorrow?"**

" **Yeah. I'll be there."**

"I don't know who's cuter. Scott and Allison or Stiles and Allison." This odd comment came from Kira of all people. Scott had been studying her quietly every time a memory of him and Allison came up; he detected no jealousy from her, only understanding, affection and the familiar feelings of grief for the huntress. Yet he's still taken by surprise at how accepting she is to comment on Scott and Allison's relationship so… fondly? It's in this moment, that he realises how much he loves Kira. Her selflessness, her gentle and meek nature, and her kind heart; he loves all this about her and more.

"Is it weird that I kind of wanted you two to kiss?" Isaac says, turning to Stiles.

"No that just makes you a typical, horny eighteen year old," Lydia rebuts for her. "Though they did actually kiss once-"

"Lydia!"

"Can we move on, please," the sheriff groans.

She grins at him sheepishly. "Sorry, daddy," she says sweetly. He rolls his eyes.

 **The morning sun is beating down on an empty tree-shrouded road. Scott slowly wanders his way home, not even taking notice of Stiles' jeep until it pulls up next to him. She sends him a tight smile and holds out a shirt. He gets in accepting the shirt, pulling it over his head. They ride in silence for some time, Scott staring out at the road straight ahead, with Stiles glancing over to check on him every little while.**

Parrish asks Stiles if she spent the whole night driving around looking for Scott.

"Uh… yeah. Why?"

"No reason. Just noticed you were wearing the same clothes."

 **The silence is eventually broken, by Scott… "You know what actually worries me the most?"**

" **If you say Allison, I'm gonna punch you in the head."**

" **She probably hates me now," he whines, throwing his head back against the seat.**

" **Ugh. I doubt that. She might be willing to giving you a second chance but you're going to have to come up with a pretty amazing apology. Or, you know, you could just - Tell her the truth and - Revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you're a frickin' werewolf." Scott shoots her a withering look. "Okay, bad idea. Hey, we'll get through this," she bumps his arm. "Come on, if I have to, I'll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once. I could do it." And finally, Stiles coaxes the tiniest smile out of Scott.**

 **They return to a comfortable silence. Slowly the smile on Scott's face drops. "Listen about yesterday… in your room-"**

" **I'm not forgiving you for that." Scott looks wounded, but accepting. Stiles catches this and rolls her eyes. She elaborates, "I'm not forgiving you, because there's nothing to forgive, Scott. It was the full moon. Not you. You would never hurt me, at least not intentionally."**

" **How do you know that?"**

" **You're my best friend, Scott," she offers as if that's enough of an explanation. Given the relaxed look on his face, it is.**

 **The next moment though he's rubbing his sore arm, after she'd struck out. "Ow! Dude what the hell?"**

 **She points at him mock-threateningly. "If you ever doubt me again I will shoot you."**

Stiles, Scott and Derek awkwardly tense and shuffle nervously, purposefully avoiding each other's gazes. Argent and the Sheriff seem to be the only two to notice, and exchange a questioning look but decide not to voice their suspicions.

 **On screen Stiles continues to rant at Scott about how worried she was, because being the idiot he is, Scott took off into the night without his phone. "Seriously, I was freaking out the entire time I was at Allison's but I couldn't say anything without mentioning the word werewolf and coming off as a complete nutjob!"**

" **You were at Allison's? Why? What did you say? What did she say?"**

 **She rolls her eyes at him, muttering under her breath something about lovesick puppies. Taking a deep breath, the answers roll off her tongue like a steam train, "Yes. To make sure she was alive. Many things. And ditto."**

" **What do you mean many thing?"**

" **Well I was there for two hours-"**

" **What!?"**

" **I hate my big mouth."**

"At least you acknowledge it-Ow!" Isaac rubs his sore arm.

 **Waiting in the quad after school, Scott jumps to his feet when he sees Allison exit the double doors. She warily approaches him. He opens his mouth to speak but is cut-off by the girl jumping straight down to business, "So what happened? You left me stranded at the party."**

" **Yeah, I - I know, I know. I'm really sorry, I am. But - You're gonna have to trust that I had a really good reason."**

" **Did you get sick?"**

" **I definitely had an attack of something."**

" **Am I gonna get an explanation?"**

" **Can you just find it in your heart to trust me on this one?"**

" **Am I gonna regret this?"**

" **Probably." He takes a step closer to her. "So is that a yes on a second chance?"**

 **A bright smile spreads across her pretty face. She nods, "Definitely yes." A massive grin finds its way onto Scott's face. Their eyes linger and the pair find themselves leaning in slowly… only to be interrupted by a horn. Allison turns to glance back at a familiar SUV. "That's my dad. I better go." She sends him one last smile before skipping to her dad's car. Scott turns to head back into the school for practice. But then he pauses, head tilting up with an intake of breath. He's caught a familiar scent. Glancing back, he sees a blonde man helping Allison into the car. Her father. The same hunter who'd shot with the crossbow Friday night.**

 **Chris catches Scott's lingering gaze and throws him a friendly smile. With the full weight of the realisation hitting Scott, he dazedly waves back.**

The screen fades out.

Braeden looks at the True Alpha. "So begins the tale of Juliet and her Romeo." The blunt remark earns the merc a glare from the boy, but beneath it is grief and mourning. It's a subtle emotion that fills the air with every sight of the late huntress. But Scott being ever the optimist, tries his hand at easing the tension… "Most guys are already worried about meeting their girlfriend's dad. I was literally shitting myself. I thought he was going kill me."

Picking up on Scott's failed joke, Isaac adds casually, "You were shitting yourself? You should have been there when he walked in on me shirtless in her room. He not-so-subtly threatened to shoot me."

"Dude he pointed a gun at my face and threatened to shoot me." Now both boys were chuckling softly, while Argent was pointedly avoiding Melissa's judging looks. At least the Sheriff seems to understand, patting his shoulder.

"Well dad walked in on me and Aiden in our afterglow and then proceeded to glare at us at breakfast while he cleaned five guns at the table," Stiles quips. Isaac laughs harder and is joined by Malia, Mason and Kira; Lydia rolls her eyes but nudges her humouredly; Scott looks appalled because of the implicit imagery of Stiles' afterglow and Liam… Liam is staring at her with a dazed look, obviously having a very different reaction to Stiles' afterglow. Lydia and Parrish may be the only ones who notice the curve of Derek's lips as he pretends to ignore Stiles or the way his fingers curl around hers, drawing circles on the back of he palm with his thumb, comforting her.

The screen comes to life once again...


	3. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Welcome back lovely readers! So we're onto Second Chance at First Line. Hope y'all enjoy. And please remember to leave a comment in the review section!**

 **Also if you guys are fans of the MCU, I have a crossover story also featuring female Stiles. Check it out at my account.**

 **Thank you guys. Now onto the story...**

 ***BOLD = Script/flashback*** *Normal = Current events*

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Teen Wolf or any of it's characters.**

* * *

 **In a stunned daze, Scott slowly enters the locker room. He drops his bag in front of his locker, the gloves falling to floor off the bench. He slowly turns, back against the locker, eyes staring out at nothing in shock. Stiles pops her head out from around the corner. "Did you apologize to Allison?"**

" **Yeah."**

" **Is she giving you a second chance or -"**

" **Yeah," he replies still with a trance-like expression.**

 **Stiles grins, cheering "Yeah! All right. So everything's good."**

" **No."**

" **No?"**

" **Remember - The hunters?" He doesn't look at her but senses her nodding. "Her dad is one of 'em."**

 **Stiles' eyes squint and she leans forward. "Her dad?" She asks as if she hadn't heard right.**

" **Shot me -" Scott continues as if he hadn't heard the question.**

 **Stiles' jaw drops, "Allison's father?"**

" **With a crossbow," Scott finishes purposefully ignoring her question.**

 **There's silence for a moment and then Stiles says, "Allison's father -"**

" **Yes! Her father!" He growls. Then snapping out of his daze begins to panic. "Oh, my God." Stiles quickly jumps to it. "No, Scott. Snap back. You okay? Hey, all right? He didn't recognize you, right?" He's not paying attention so she slaps him for effort and that seems to work. He stares at her a moment then answers, "No. N - no. I don't think so."**

" **Does she know about him?"**

" **Oh, yeah. I don't know. What if she does? This is gonna kill me, man," he whines, beginning to panic again. He knocks his head back against the locker and makes a face that looks like he's about to burst forth with enough tears to fill a pool.**

 **Stiles shakes her head, her voice filled with determination. "Okay, just focus on lacrosse. Okay, here, Scott. Take this. Take this," she starts shoving his equipment into his arms, "And focus on lacrosse for now, okay? That's all you gotta do, yeah? Here we go!" She finishes slapping his arm encouragingly on those last three words. She tries to make for a dramatic exit but ends up stumbling over the bench.**

"Nice one, Stiles."

"Shut up, Isaac."

 **Coach blows his whistle. "Let's go! One - on - one from up top! Jackson - Take a long stick today." Jackson nods, taking a long stick and taking position in defence before Danny. The players practice, colliding into one another, all throughout the Finstock offering his commentary, and like usual, Greenberg gets the short end of the stick, though he's not actually seen. "Greenberg, take a lap. Let's go. Faster, Greenberg!"**

 **The scene cuts to Scott in the front of a line. Scott, gazing off with far too many thoughts swirling in his head, he doesn't realise he's next. "McCall, what are you waiting for? Let's go," Finstock orders.**

 **He snaps to attention, realizing he's at the head of the line. Coach tosses the ball. Scott goes for the shot. But Jackson comes right at him, knocking him down. "You sure you still want to be first line, McCall?" Jackson quips smirking down at him. Hopping up to his feet, Scott's still cradling his arm where Jackson's stick made first contact. Finstock sidles up to him. "My - my grandmother can move faster than that. And she's dead. You think you can move faster than the - lifeless corpse of my dead grandmother?"**

"That doesn't even make sense," Melissa and Noshiko say together.

Stiles mutters irritably, "It does to him."

 **Gritting his teeth in anger, Scott looks up to reveal his brown eyes are rapidly brightening to yellow. "Yes, coach," he grits out.**

" **Then do it again." Scott runs back to his starting position, all the while the Coach somewhat mockingly chanting, "McCall's gonna do it again! McCall's gonna do it again!"**

 **Finstock blows his whistle. Scott shoots forward again as Coach tosses the ball to him. Stiles steps away from the rest of the team, noticing the change in Scott. His speed, the extraordinary agility with which he moves. An oblivious Jackson goes for a cross check, heading for Scott with his stick horizontal even as the smaller boy hurtles toward him with ferocious speed. They collide like two goats locking horns. Both go down, Jackson hollering as he hits the ground. The sickening sound of his bone dislodging can be heard and everyone makes a run for Jackson, while Stiles goes straight to Scott's side.**

" **Scott? Scott, you okay?" she asks, voice full of concern.**

 **His head tilts up to reveal the sharpened teeth jutting out from his lower jaw.**

" **I can't control it, Stiles. It's happening.**

" **What? Right here? Now?" He doesn't answer but continues to struggle with himself. Quickly glancing over her shoulder, Stiles ensures everyone's far too concerned with Jackson to notice them. Forcing Scott to his feet, she drags him away from the field into the locker room, neither notice Derek watching from the sidelines.**

Stiles rips her hands from Derek, turning on him. "You were there?!" she shouts and yes he does have the courtesy to look a tiny bit guilty.

Malia unhelpfully waves at the screen, "Uh, yeah Stiles, I think it's pretty obvious he was there. You don't have to ask him."

Ignoring her, Stiles continues to vehemently question the former Alpha. "Did you know what was going on with him? Wait, don't answer that, of course you knew. Did you bother to make sure he wouldn't try to kill me? Or were just going to sit pretty until he painted the walls red with my blood?"

Derek grunts, "Stiles-"

"Don't you 'Stiles' me?"

"I wasn't going to let him hurt you."

She scoffs, "Oh sure because you cared so much about my well being, back then."

"I already said keeping you alive was part of the job-"

"You mean part of the problem, right? Come on, Derek, I wasn't exactly a priority of yours."

"Don't act like you never tried convincing Scott to leave me for dead!"

"Maybe if you weren't such an asshole, threatening us all the time, I wouldn't have had to!"

"Maybe if you weren't such a nosy, hyperactive pain in the ass-"

Scott cuts them off with a resounding, "ENOUGH!" Both Derek and Stiles quiet down, staring at Scott shocked. The True Alpha stares back at them, his expression dark and tired, something they can't quite make out as his puppy brown eyes observe the pair of them. The seconds tick by and then… "I didn't think you guys would set each other off this quickly into it," he says with a lopsided smile. "You're not even interacting. And if memory serves me right, it's way worse when the two of you are in the same room." Stiles and Derek reluctantly glance at each other; when their eyes meet, they both have to suppress a small chuckle and grin at the memories. Even the Isaac and Lydia, and to an extent Noah, Argent and Melissa wear knowing grins. Everyone else is just confused.

Scott, Stiles and Derek notice this. Before any of them can try to explain, Liam raises a hand… "Let me guess… things were different, you all were different?" The three of them look at each other and share a look of realisation: They've been in this, together, since day one, whether they knew it or not. And for the longest time, it was just them. Things had felt so hard back then, they hadn't realised how much harder the road ahead would have been. They were all young and naive in their own way, two years ago. Made a lot of mistakes, broke trusts but went on to rebuild relationships, friendships - the three of them started all of _this_. Surprisingly it's Argent who answers, "Two years is a long time for people like us. We've all been through a lot. These things change us and change how we see each other. Former enemies-" he nods at the Scott, Derek and Stiles, "... become allies, friends. Who we are today aren't going to be the same people we're looking back on. Doesn't mean we can't all learn from our pasts, even if they're not ours."

Scott nods at Argent before turning back to where Liam, Malia and Mason, "He's right. You-us, all of us, are going to see things that you might find hard to believe because of the way things are now-"

"Like you guys not trusting Derek?" Parrish supplies.

"Hating Derek, more like," Stiles mutters, earning her a stink eye from the Hale which she point-blank shrugs as if to say, 'well, it's true!'.

Scott ignores them, answering Parrish, "Yeah… among other things."

Kira suggests they continue 'rolling tape'.

 **Stiles and Scott stumble into the locker room, Scott collapsing onto all fours. His breathing is haggard. Stiles is on the ground in front of him, trying to get him to look at her, to calm down.**

 **He glares at her with fierce golden eyes. "Get away from me!" he howls low, his voice a frightening demonic rasp. Shocked Stiles stumbles back onto her ass. Scott is watching her on raised haunches.**

Everyone but Stiles, Derek and Braeden hold their breath. Stiles rolls her eyes, "Guys, I'm alive."

 **Stiles scrambles to her feet, making a hasty retreat, as Scott lunges at her making a swipe at her. Stiles releases a short scream but skids away from him around the corner, collapsing against lockers. Scott jumps on top of the lockers, and Stiles makes a break for it, her friend jumping through the rafters, from locker-block to another, stalking her with animal precision. Stiles stumbles backwards towards the door, accidentally knocking into a fire extinguisher. He lunges at her claws raised, just as she manages to tussle the the fire extinguisher off the wall, pull the pin and blast the icy CO2 at him. Scott's clawed hands come up to shield his face, plumes of white surrounding him. Darting around the door, Stiles backs against the wall, waiting for the next attack. But then hears a weak voice, "Stiles?"**

 **Slowly, Stiles peers around the door to see Scott on the floor, chest heaving with each difficult breath. He pulls the helmet off to reveal that he's back to normal, face drenched with sweat. He looks at her with confused expression, "What happened?"**

" **You tried to kill me," she answers, dropping the extinguisher to floor. Stiles is still shaking but is managing to rein in her anger enough for Scott's sake. "It's like I told you before. It's the anger. It's your pulse rising. It's a trigger."**

 **Scott looks at her with his helpless puppy face. "But that's lacrosse. It's a pretty violent game, if you hadn't noticed."**

" **Well, it's gonna be a lot more violent if you end up killing someone on the field." The retort was meant to come off light-hearted to break the heavy tension, but not even Stiles could mask just how fucked this situation is. She shakes her head at Scott, "You can't play Saturday. You're gonna have to get out of the game."**

" **But I'm first line," he whines.**

" **Not anymore."**

The entire time, Scott had kept an eye on Liam, watching his expression. The young beta was as surprised as anyone else by his loss of control. Scott think about how close he'd come to killing Stiles, that day. And then again at the school and a few days later during his second full moon. Liam's clenching his fists, enough that a little blood drips from his hands. But when Scott tries to pick up his scent, there isn't any anger, just fear and guilt. He keeps this in the back of his mind, telling himself he needs to have a private word with his beta at some point soon. Meanwhile the sheriff and Melissa have been sputtering out nonsensical worries. "Ok, dad, Melissa, if we're going to get cray-cray every time I almost get killed then we're going to be talking about this a very long time and not getting anywhere with the visions."

"I don't think that makes them feel better," Isaac tells her.

"Isaac?"

"Shutting up."

 **Back at the McCall home, an emotionally and physically exhausted Scott tosses his school bag on the floor and falls face first onto the bed. Melissa McCall looks in.**

"I know it's only two years ago, but I swear I look like ten years younger there."

"I still think you look pretty, mom."

Melissa leans forward to smack another kiss onto his cheek. "And that is why you are the perfect son."

" **Hey. Late shift again for me. But I am taking Saturday off to see your first game."**

" **Mom, you can't-" he tries to protest.**

" **Oh, no, I can and I will. Come on, one shift isn't gonna break us. Completely," she jokes. She narrows her gaze at him. "Hey, what's wrong with your eyes?" Scott glances up in alarm. "You look like you haven't slept in days," she elaborates.**

 **Scott lets out a sigh of relief, dropping his head back onto the bed. He tells her, "It's nothing. I'm just - stressed."**

 **She looks at him skeptically. "Just stress? Nothin' else? I mean, it's not like you're on drugs or anything, right?"**

Chris looks at her. "You hesitate to give him the safe sex talk, but you go in guns blazing about recreational drugs."

"Don't question my methods!"

" **Right now?" Scott asks without looking at her.**

 **Melissa's eyes widen. "Right now? I'm sorry, what do you mean "right now"? Have you ever taken drugs?" "Have you?" Scott shoots her a challenging look.**

 **And judging by her expression, she clearly doesn't want to answer him. "Get some sleep," she says leaving promptly.**

Melissa's purposefully avoiding everyone's gaze. "It was the eighties," is the only answer she offers, sheepishly. Noshiko nods, "Been there." And just like that Melissa has found her new best friend.

 **Scott drags himself up from the bed and hits the mouse on his computer. The moment it wakes, a web chat invitation from Stiles pops up. Scott hits accept and Stiles appears in the window, chugging down a bottle of water.**

"... why are you only wearing a bra?" Liam asks her, and despite the low light, she is pretty sure his eyes are struggling to stay focussed on anything above collarbone. Because as much as the senior girls in this room terrify him (and probably have given him some type of woman complex), Liam would be lying if he said he didn't find them extremely attractive, especially Stiles who he's spent most of his time with and may or may not have the tiniest crush on.

"Liam," the sheriff says lowly, a warning to the young werewolf.

Stiles narrows her whiskey eyes at the boy incredulously, "It's a sports bra, dumbass. I was working out."

"But you were at practice."

"I know. I remember. It's hard to forget."

Lydia pipes up, "I think you guys forget we're human. We need to actually try harder. And Stiles is the only girl on an all male team so she needs to like, quadruple her efforts."

"But she's not even first line."

"Not important. Why are you so scandalised? There's nothing wrong with going for a jog around the block," Stiles shoots at Liam. The incredulous looks she earns from everyone has her sighing, "Okay back then there wasn't anything dangerous."

"There was Peter," Derek quips shooting her an unimpressed look.

She rolls her eyes. Mason decides to add his two cents in, just to screw with his best friend, "Yeah, I think Liam is more concerned with the fact that your assets are onscreen. I don't mean for us. I mean for Scott."

Scott and Stiles cringe, repeating "ew" over and over like a Kardashian who's walked into Target.

Isaac laughs, "Dude, they're not kidding about the whole incest thing. These two were literally raised like siblings."

Liam screws his nose, "I'm pretty sure if I had a sister, I wouldn't want to see her in just her bra."

Stiles and Scott glance at each other then back at the beta, shrugging. "We're really comfortable around one another," Scott answers. "It's never really bothered me before. I mean I've never seen her that way, so… I don't really notice."

Liam is still weirded out, but Stiles shakes her head, "Liam you've seen me a dozen times in just a bra in the locker room."

He twiddles his thumbs, awkwardly avoiding his gaze. "Actually I avoid looking at you - and Kira - when you guys are changing."

Kira and Stiles "awwww" at him. "You are so sweet," Kira leans forward on her knees, and hugs Liam from the side, making him blush.

Parrish waves his hand in question, awkwardly. "Uh… why are you two sharing the guys' locker room."

"It's more convenient. Coach makes most of announcements and plans that way. We use the girls' showers though. It's not weird, we're kind of used to it."

"Speak for yourself," Kira mutters under her breath.

"You'll get there buttercup. You've already proven you can handle yourself with misogynistic assholes."

With that final word, Stiles nods back at the three gods, telling them silently to keep playing.

" **What happened to your arm?" he asks looking at the bandage around her left arm.**

 **Stiles looks surprised and slaps her hand on it, then winces at the action. A fearful look overcomes Scott's expression. "Did I-"**

" **No! No, no, no! This isn't you," she starts chuckling through exhausted breaths. "I just- I tripped and scraped my arm. Pretty badly."**

 **Scott has a look of disbelief and she rolls her eyes. "I'm serious. This was a jogging accident."**

 **Scott stares at her a moment look before nodding. "What'd you find out?" Scott asks.**

" **Well, it's bad. Jackson's got a separated shoulder."**

" **Because of me?"**

 **Stiles snorts, "Because he's a tool."**

" **But is he gonna play?"**

" **Well, they don't know yet. Now they're just counting on you for Saturday."Stiles pauses mid-sentence. Then comes closer to the web cam window, squinting her eyes at it. She seems to be looking at something in Scott's room.**

" **What?" he asks. A text window pops up reading** ' _ **It looks like'**_ **The cursor turns into a spinning wheel, the computer momentarily hung up. Stiles's web cam image freezes. Impatiently, Scott huffs, "It looks like what?" A moment later, the cursor finally stops spinning and the rest of the text appears:** ' _ **It looks like someone's behind you**_ **.' Scott stops breathing. He doesn't turn. His eyes flicker to the bottom of the screen to his own window image. He slowly resizes the window, making it bigger until He sees his own reflected face, an expression of pure fear on it. And behind him is someone, standing there in the shadows of his room. Scott spins around and Derek grabs him, yanking him away from the desk, sending the laptop clattering to the floor. Dragging him up, he slams Scott face first to the wall.**

" **I saw you on the field," Derek growls.**

" **Wha - what are you talking about?"**

" **You shifted in front of them! If they find out what you are, they find out about me. About all of us. And then it's not just the hunters after us, it's everyone."**

" **But - They didn't see anything! I..s - swear, I -" He whimpers, eyes screwed shut with fright.**

" **And they won't! Because if you even try to play in that game on Saturday…" Derek comes terrifyingly close, right next to Scott's ear, "I'm gonna kill you myself."**

 **When Scott opens his eyes, Derek's gone.**

"Fair enough." The odd comment comes from Argent of all people.

"You condone him threatening minors with bodily harm?" Parrish asks.

Isaac raises his arm. "Well he wasn't threatening Scott with bodily harm. He was threatening to kill him…"

Lydia rolls her eyes at Isaac. "You're an idiot."

Argent explains, "Derek has a point. If Scott or anyone for that matter is going to risk unveiling the supernatural to civilians, they're no longer an asset but a liability."

"Or… Derek could have offered to teach Scott to control the shift rather than threatening to rip out his throat," Stiles offers, speaking slowly as if she's talking to a bunch of children. Derek narrows his eyes at her. She matches his gaze, silently challenging him. The glaring match comes to a quick end by Melissa professing, "Why do I get the feeling that you break into my house as much as Stiles does?"

"Probably because it's true," Scott mutters annoyed.

Derek finds himself under the scrutiny of the Sheriff next. "Hale, how often do you break into my house?" He's not asking, he's demanding the information from the young man, his hand coming to rest on his holster. Derek would call the Sheriff's bluff, but then again, he's seen Stiles shoot Scott just because she was pissed at him. And the eighteen year old definitely has her father's attitude.

"Dad it's fine," Stiles tells him, though throwing a side glance at Derek adds, "But it wouldn't kill you to give me a heads up. I'm always in a towel-"

"In a what!?"

"Moving on," she says quickly.

"Derek-" the sheriff's warning growl is cut off by the visions continuing to play out.

 **Scott follows a bemused Coach into his office. "What do you mean, you can't play the game tomorrow night?"**

" **I mean - I can't play the game tomorrow night."**

 **Coach looks at him oddly. "You can't wait to play the game tomorrow night."**

" **No, coach, I can't play the game tomorrow night."**

" **I'm not following," the man shakes his head, clearly confused.**

"How dumb is this guy?" Braeden asks.

"Actually, he's a pretty good coach. And teacher. He's just… weird," Isaac answers.

" **I'm having some personal issues," Scott explains.**

" **Is it a girl?"**

" **No."**

" **Is it a guy? You know, our goalie Danny is gay."**

"I miss Danny," Lydia sighs.

Isaac looks at her, "What happened to Danny?"

"He moved back to Hawaii to take care of his grandpa."

" **Yeah, I know, coach, but that's not it."**

" **You don't think Danny's a good-lookin' guy?"**

"Okay seriously, where is he going with this?" Malia asks. Everyone just shrugs.

" **I think he's good- looking. I - but I - I like girls. And that's not it, anyway! I - I -"**

" **What, is it drugs? Are you doing meth? Because I had a brother that was addicted to meth. You should have seen what it did to his teeth - They were all cracked and rotted. It was - it was disgusting."**

 **Concerned, Scott gasps, "My - God. What happened to him?"**

 **The Coach shoots him a look as if Scott's the dumbest things on two legs he's ever seen. "He got veneers. Is - is that what this is about? Are you afraid of getting hurt, McCall?"**

" **No - I'm - Having some issues dealing with aggression."**

" **Well, here's the good news. That's why you play lacrosse. Problem solved."**

" **Coach, I can't play the game tomorrow night."**

" **Listen, McCall, part of playing first line is taking on the responsibility of being first line. Now, if you can't shoulder that responsibility, then you're back on the bench until you're ready." The bell rings and he begins to usher Scott towards the door.**

 **Scott holds himself steadfast and shocked looks on his face. "If I don't play the game, you're taking me off first line?"**

" **McCall, play the game!"**

 **Scott exits into the main hallways of the school. He receives a text from his mom and is about to reply back when Allison approaches him, "Hey," she shoots him her award winning smile. And doesn't that just turn his frown upside down.**

" **Hey."**

" **Busy?"**

" **No, no, it's just, uh, my mom, she's nothing. I mean, it's nothing. Uh, I'm never busy for you."**

Lydia rolls her eyes. "Could you be anymore cheesy, Scott."

"Yes," Stiles and Derek irritably deadpan together. Scott sheepishly throws them apologetic smiles. Because if anyone knows how obsessively and endearingly sweet but cliche head-over-heels in love Scott was with Allison, it'd be Derek and Stiles.

 **Allison chuckles, "I like the sound of that. I have to run to French class, but I wanted you to know that I'm coming to see you play tomorrow."**

" **You are?"**

" **And we're all going out afterwards. You, me, Lydia, Jackson and Stiles - well I haven't asked Stiles yet but when I see her I will. Or you can if you see her first. Or maybe I'll just text her. It's gonna be great. Uh, save me a seat at lunch. I gotta go."**

 **Scott barely has a chance to nod as she hurries off. But just before she disappears into the rush of students, she smiles at him again. With a quick wave, she's gone.**

 **Down the adjacent hall, Allison stops at her locker, quickly spins the combo, grabs her French book. She stops when she notices something strange inside. Slowly, she retracts her jacket from the party. As she eases the locker shut, she realises how very deserted the corridor is. She gazes down one end of the hall and then the other. Not a soul. Not a sound. Suddenly the second bell rings, startling her. Breathing a short laugh at herself, she hurries off to class.**

"I bet twenty bucks, Derek was watching her," Stiles says.

"Seconded!" Malia, Lydia and Isaac shout enthusiastic.

The werewolf in speaking hangs his head, muttering under his breath about how he'd like to kill Stiles.

 **In math class, Lydia and Scott are among a few other students at the chalkboard, trying to solve their own prescribed equations. Lydia whispers to Scott, "Why is there a rumor going around that you're not playing tomorrow?"**

 **Scott is startled for a moment, surprised she's even talking to him. He manages to find his voice and answers softly, "Because I'm sort of not."**

" **I think you sort of are," she hisses, as if he has no other option. "Especially when you brutally injure my boyfriend by ramming into him."**

 **Scott scoffs, "He brutally injured himself ramming into me."**

" **Jackson's gonna play tomorrow. But he's not gonna be at his peak, and I prefer my boyfriend at peak performance."**

Funnily enough, Lydia shows no shame in her younger self's words. But that's Lydia for you. She never says or does anything without being 100% certain of it, no regrets. Behind her, Stiles mouths to Parrish something very suggestive that has him blushing like a tomato. The silent comment also earns her a slap on the back of her head by her father, though he doesn't really look mad at her, because when his questioning gaze turns on his deputy, it's wearing an amused expression.

" **Okay," Scott draws out, unsure if they're still talking about Lacrosse.**

" **I date the captain of the winning lacrosse team, and if they start off the season losing, I date the captain of the losing lacrosse team. I don't date losers," Lydia explains.**

 **Scott shakes his head. "Losing one game isn't gonna kill anyone," then softer he adds, " In fact, it might even save someone."**

" **Fine! Don't play. We'll probably win anyway. Then we'll go out after, like we were planning - and I'll introduce Allison to all the hot players on the team. And Scott McCall can stay home, surfing the net for p0rn." She finishes her math problem, wipes the chalk off her hands and saunters back to her desk.**

"See that right there!" Stiles points at the screen. "That's why I don't get how people could totally miss how smart you are. It was right in front of them the whole time," she rants to Lydia.

A bright smile paints its way onto the banshees face; she loops her arm through Stiles, "And this is why you're my best friend."

 **Scott returns his attention to his own equation on the board. The teacher looks up at him disappointed. "Mr. McCall, you're not even close to solving your problem."**

" **Tell me about it."**

 **The scene changes once again to the busy hallways of BHHS. A locker slams shut. Scott leans his head against it, utterly weary. Stiles whips around the corner, grabbing him. "Hey, come here," she drags him around the corner where they can see the vice principal talking to her father and one of his deputies. "Tell me what they're saying," she orders.**

"So listening in on my calls and the scanner isn't enough?"

"In life or death situations?"

"How is this a life or death situation?"

Stiles pouts, "Yeah, okay I got nothing."

 **Scott focuses, attempting to tune into their voices. "I want everyone under the age of 18 to be in their home by 9:30 p.m. We'd like to institute the curfew, effective immediately," the Sheriff says.**

 **As the principal starts to answer, Scott whispers to Stiles, "Curfew because of the body."**

 **Stiles, not so quietly, hisses, "Unbelievable. My dad's out looking for a rabid animal, while the jerk - off who actually killed the girl is just hangin' out, doing whatever he wants."**

" **Well, you can't exactly tell your dad the truth about Derek."**

 **Stiles shakes her head, her eyes firing up with a determined glint.**

"Oh god, you have that look," the sheriff groans.

" **I can do something."**

" **Like what?" Scott asks, clueless.**

" **Find the other half of the body." WIthout another word, she turns on her heel and marches away.**

 **Scott's left gawking after her in disbelief, "Are you kidding?" But he receives no word of reply.**

 **Looking down the hallway, he see Lydia introducing Allison to one of the older Lacrosse players, an unsettling anger setting in his gut. As he approaches them, Lydia smirks at him evilly, and tugs the other player away, leaving Allison to Scott.**

" **So Lydia's introducing you to everyone?"**

" **She's being so unbelievably nice to me."**

" **I wonder why," Scott says with an air of irritation, that goes over Allison's head.**

" **Maybe she gets how much being the new girl can suck."**

 **He's about to reply when he notices with alarm that she's carrying her jacket from the party. "Where did you get that?"**

" **My jacket? It was in my locker. I think Lydia brought it back from the party. She has my combination -" "Did she say she brought it back or did somebody give her the jacket?"**

" **Like who?"**

" **Like Derek."**

" **Your friend?"**

" **He's not my friend. How much did you talk to him when he drove you home?"**

" **Mmm, not much at all."**

" **What did you say?" his demands continued.**

 **Allison starts to back away from him, taken aback by his odd behaviour. "I - gotta get to class."**

 **She takes off pretty quickly.**

Lydia shakes her head. "Boys are such idiots."

"Hey!" Scott, Isaac and Liam are offended. Mason shrugs, "She's got a point."

Derek smothers a laugh. Scott scrutinises him, "What's so funny?"

"You implied that you were jealous that something might have happened between me and Allison."

"No I didn't!" Scott looks to Stiles and Lydia but all they offer him a pitying looks. "Oh my god," he groans, "I'm an idiot."

 **On his bike and pedaling at top speed, Scott charges down the road. Finally, he whips onto a driveway leading to the rundown Hale house. "Derek!" he shouts, throwing his bike down as he storms into the yard. "Derek!" Something catches his attention. Around the side of the house, at the edge of the woods, he sees fresh dirt mound covering the ground. As if something had been dug up. Or buried. But before he can approach, a sound stops him in his tracks... he turns to see Derek standing on the porch where he hadn't been seconds ago. "Stay away from her! She doesn't know anything!" he shouts at the older werewolf.**

 **Derek begins to approach, jumping down the porch over the steps. "Yeah?" he asks, "What if she does? You think your little buddy Stiles can just google werewolves, and now you got all the answers, is that it?"**

"Okay, seriously where is this hostility coming from?" Stiles mutters. Derek stares at her. "What I'm being serious. Us hating you is agiven. You threatened Scott and you still looked like a creepy serial killer. But I haven't done anything to you yet- wait. How do you even know my name? Ohmygod! You are such a stalker!"

"Stiles?"

"Derek."

"Shut up."

" **You don't get it yet, Scott, but I'm looking out for you. Think about what could happen. You're out on the field. The aggression takes over. And you shift in front of everyone." Reaching down to Scott's school bag, Derek picks up the lacrosse stick, playfully turning it over in his hands. "Your mom, all your friends. And when they see you -" Derek's rakes his claws through the net, "- everything falls apart." The slashed threads flutter away from the head of the lacrosse stick, the net now in tatters. Derek tosses the ruined stick. Scott catches it. When he looks up, he's alone, Derek having vanished yet again.**

"Dude, why do you insist on breaking lacrosse sticks?" Liam throws at Derek.

Derek shrugs. No answer.

 **Back at Scott's house, Stiles bursts into his room. "What did you find? How did you find it? Where did you find it? And, yes, I've had a lot of Adderall."**

Chuckles echo around the cavern, but Stiles pouts. "Why do I get the feeling that this is just going to be a series of Scott doing heroic crap and me embarrassing myself?"

Malia smiles at her, "You do heroic crap too. You just fall over a lot."

"Gee thanks, Malia," Stiles drawls sarcastically.

" **I found something at Derek Hale's," Scott tells her. He's sitting on the edge of his bed, working on something with immense focus.**

" **Are you kidding? What?"**

" **There's something buried there - I could smell blood."**

" **That's awesome!" but seeing her friend's disapproving look, correctly herself, "I mean, that's terrible… Whose blood?"**

" **I don't know. But when we do, your dad nails Derek for the murder. And then you help me figure out how to play lacrosse without changing." Scott stands, revealing what he's been working on so intently: his lacrosse stick. Now perfectly re-laced, he spins it in his hands with a look of pride. "Because there's no way I'm not playing that game."**

 **The scene changes to Stiles and Scott exiting the hospital. "The scent was the same," Scott tells her.**

" **So he did bury the other half of the body on his property?"**

" **Which means we have proof he killed the girl."**

" **I say we use it."**

" **How?"**

 **Stiles looks at him warily. "Tell me something first. Are you doing this because you want to stop Derek, or because you want to play in the game, and he said you couldn't?"**

" **There are bite marks on the legs, Stiles - bite marks."**

 **Stiles stares at him a moment longer before sighing. "Okay. Then we're gonna need a shovel," she says, pushing him towards her jeep.**

Melissa groans. "Oh god. Please tell me you two aren't going to do what I think you're going to do?"

They look at her sheepishly. "I need a drink, after we're done here."

 **It's dark out. Derek exits his family's house-**

"You're not actually living there are you?" Mason asks Derek.

"I had to. Couldn't have the hunters knowing I was in town. Obviously that doesn't last long," he throws a glare at Scott.

"Why are you glaring me? Stiles was there too."

"She had good reasons to want to arrest me. You wanted to play lacrosse."

Scott crosses his arms and grumbles.

 **Derek gets into his Camaro and takes off down the road. When he's out of sight, the jeep rolls quietly to a stop. Now carrying a shovel and pick, Scott and Stiles head for the house. But Scott pauses, glancing around. "Wait, something's different."**

" **Different how?"**

" **I don't know. Let's just get this over with."**

"I can't believe you guys are doing this," Lydia groans into her hands. "This is so creepy and wrong on so many levels."

 **Unnerved now as well, Stiles follows him around the house to the edge of the woods. Waving him over, Scott kicks at the dirt on the ground. It's loose, gravelly. They start digging. Piles of dirt landing on the grass nearby. They work fast, Scott pulling up his sleeves as sweat starts to drip down his forehead. "This is taking way too long."**

 **Stiles grunts. "Stop complaining, at least you're not wearing a skirt!" she hisses. "Now shut up and just keep going."**

 **Scott stops digging. "What if he comes back?"**

" **Then I'll seduce him with my charm," Stiles snarks.**

" **What charm?"**

" **Fuck you. I'm fucking sexy."**

" **You're charming all right," Scott mutters sarcastically. Then louder, "Seriously, though. What if he comes back."**

" **Then we get the hell out of here."**

" **What if he catches us?"**

" **I have a plan for that," Stiles says, shovelling more dirt over her shoulder.**

" **Which is?"**

" **You run one way. I run the other. Whoever he catches first, too bad."**

" **I hate that plan."**

Isaac looks over Stiles. "You do realise you're slower. So Derek would catch you first, right?"

"Yup," she says without hesitating. It takes a moment for it to dawn on everyone that the joke wasn't really a joke. Stiles really was looking out for Scott.

 **They dig faster, harder. Muscles burning, Scott keeps throwing nervous glances to the driveway.**

" **Oh, stop, stop, stop," Stiles says. Dropping the shovel, Stiles clambers down into the hole. She feels around and finds a dark fabric in the dirt. Both of them now digging with their hands they finally uncover a black bag, drawstring tied in tight knots. Stiles digs at the knot with her fingers.**

" **Hurry," Scott hisses.**

" **I'm trying. Did he have to tie the thing in, like, 900 knots?"**

" **I'll do it." Both of them claw at the drawstring frantically. It finally loosens. The bag flutters open to reveal not the body of a dead girl, but the body of a wolf. Stiles and Scott both scream, jumping back, scrambling over the dirt mound edges of the hole. Stiles is holding on to Scott for dear life, "What the hell is that?"**

 **He pulls her closer to him, reluctant to let her out of his arms. "It's a wolf."**

" **Yeah, I can see that," she pushes away from him, "I thought you said you smelled blood, as in human blood."**

" **I told you something was different."**

" **This doesn't make sense."**

" **We gotta get out of here," Scott tells her glancing back to the front of the house.**

" **Yeah. Okay, help me cover this up." Stiles reaches for the shovel when she notices a purple flower in the ground. It sticks out of the dirt as if it had only recently been planted there.**

 **Scott notices her pause. "What's wrong?"**

" **You see that flower?"**

" **What about it?"**

" **I think it's wolfsbane."**

" **What's that?"**

"Scott, you are so uncultured," Lydia quips.

 **Stiles looks at him incredulously, "Uh - Haven't you ever seen the Wolf Man?"**

" **No."**

" **Lon Chaney Jr.? Claude Rains? The original, classic werewolf movie?"**

" **No! What?"**

" **You are so unprepared for this," she shakes her head at him, disappointed. Stiles kneels next to the flower, gently feeling around the stem. She pulls it up, revealing that the flower has sprouted out of what appears to be a very thin but strong twine interlaced from its stem and root.**

"Stiles was everything you knew off google and classic movies?" Argent asks her.

"No. I looked into proper mythos archives too. I just happen to have a healthy respect for classic films… and all things sci-fi, well, supposedly sci-fi… hey do you think aliens are real?"

No answer. But a lot of stares that suggest she has a mental disorder. Rude.

 **While Scott takes several cautious steps back, Stiles continues unearthing the purple-flowered rope. Soil falling around her shoes, she walks in circles around the grave. The Wolfsbane rope leads back to the grave in an almost perfect spiral. Finally, at about ten yards out, Stiles reaches the end of the rope. With a pile gathered into her arms, she turns to Scott who is staring back at the grave.**

" **Stiles," he whispers.**

 **The rope slips out of Stiles's hands, falling at her feet as her eyes widen. The wolf is no longer a wolf. It's the upper half of the girl.**

Derek looks away. He can't bear to see Laura's dead eyes staring up at him. He remembers carrying her half-corpse, her innards spilling out; he remembers carefully wrapping her in the sack-cloth and burying her; he remembers binding the grave with wolfsbane; he'd chosen a spiral, promising vengeance. But most of all, he remembers going to sleep for weeks and hearing her voice, empty of it's usual spark, accusing him of failing her, of not protecting her, of killing her and all of their family. His eyes are shut tight, jaw clenched, his teeth grinding. The softest touch, the slightest brush of air against his arm and face respectively, compels him to relax ever so slightly. Slowly opening his eyes, his green gaze latches onto a pair of concerned and sympathetic whiskey orbs. No words are spoken between them. No words are necessary because they already know. They've been down this road before. Stiles simply leans closer, laying her head on his shoulder, as she turns her attention back to the screen, her fingers still wrapped around his arm. Derek stares at her blonde hair a moment longer, allowing a small smile to tug at the corner of his lips before returning his focus to the screen also.

Behind them the parents exchange knowing look, particularly Noah and Chris who had noticed Stiles' attention had been on Derek the entire time her younger self had started digging up the grave.

 **It's now daylight over the Hale Property. Handcuffed, Derek is led into a police car by a Deputy while Scott looks on by Stiles's jeep. Not even seconds later, Stiles slinks onto the scene, approaching her father's car; she ignores Scott's silent protests. She slips into the car, shutting the door behind her before turning to face Derek through the cage.**

" **Okay, just so you know, I'm not afraid of you." Derek slowly raises his head, his glare piercing and deadly. Stiles gulps, "Okay, maybe I am."**

Malia, Braeden and Isaac chuckle, while most everyone else looks on amused.

 **Shaking off her newfound fear, Stiles carries on, "Doesn't matter. I just wanna know something. The girl you killed -" and of course Derek winces, but it's so subtle she almost misses it. Almost. "- she was a werewolf. She was a different kind, wasn't she?" She looks to Derek for confirmation but gets nothing. "I mean, she could turn herself into an actual wolf, and I know Scott can't do that. Is that why you killed her?"**

" **Why are you so worried about me when it's your friend who's the problem? When he shifts on the field, what do you think they're gonna do. Just keep cheering him on? I can't stop him from playing, but you can." Derek leans closer, eyes dropping for a second before meeting her gaze again, "And, trust me - you want to."**

 **Stiles feels her mouth go dry; he's dangerous and totally untrustworthy, but there's a look of warning behind his dark gaze that has her heart frantically beating with worry and fear for Scott. Before she can say anything more, the passenger door swings open and her father's hauling her ass out of that car, slamming the door shut behind them. Pulling her a few feet from his car, he stops and turns on her, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"**

" **I'm just trying to help," she defends.**

 **Crossing his arms, as if this is just another casual conversation with his daughter, he Noah goes on, "Okay, well, how 'bout you help me understand exactly how you came across this."**

" **We were looking for Scott's inhaler."**

"Oh god," Lydia groans. "You two are a train wreck. I don't know how you survived sophomore year."

" **Which he dropped when?" Sheriff asks.**

" **The other night."**

" **The other night when you were out here looking for the first half of the body."**

" **Yes," Stiles sighs dramatically, as if it were obvious.**

" **The night that you told me you were alone and Scott was at home."**

" **Yes," she says all too quickly but then her face drops. "No. Oh, crap."**

" **So you lied to me." Not a question.**

 **Stiles squints, trying to think of some way to argue herself out of hot water. "That depends on how you define lying."**

" **Well, I define it as not telling the truth. How do you define it?"**

" **Mm, reclining your body in a horizontal position?" she uses her hands to sweep across a horizontal plane. He looks at her a moment, silently wonder "why me, God?" then shaking his head, tells her to get the hell out of there.**

 **Stiles leaves promptly. No arguments there.**

The group watches as the following car ride with Stiles and Scott does not blow over well, with Scott wolfing out thanks to Stiles against her better judgement holding onto the wolfsbane. By the time she can pull over and get rid of it, he's taken off.

"I can't believe you called into station with that description," Sheriff pinches his nose.

"I was freaking out!"

"Tara asked me if you'd been getting into my liquor cabinet."

"Well that doesn't happen yet."

"Yet? What do you mean yet?"

 **Through the open second-floor bedroom window, Allison can be seen sitting down at her desk with an open box. She pulls out a simple unframed photo smiling at it. She's completely ignorant to a fully wolfed out Scott, perched on the adjacent roof, inching closer and closer to her window. Allison comes to the window and Scott moves forward, creeping out of the darkness. Allison pulls the window shut; in the glass revealing is a reflection of Scott. But not as himself. The face of a monster stares back at him. He retreats back into the shadows, frightened by his own appearance. Scott jumps down from his perch and runs out into the street, just as headlights appear. A car screeches to a halt. Scott slams into the hood, rolling over it and toppling to the pavement. Argent hops out of the driver's side.**

 **Allison runs outside to join them, "Dad! What the hell are you doing?"**

" **He - he came out of nowhere, Allison," Chris says, still shocked.**

" **Are you trying to kill him?"**

 **Scott looks up, startled by the ironic choice of words. Chris shakes his head. "No, no, of course not. He just - he just ran out into the driveway."**

 **Allison helps Scott stand up, the boy apologising, "It's my fault. I'm sorry." He reassures Allison that he's fine, right before apologising to Chris for hitting his car.**

" **You sure you're okay?" the hunter asks.**

" **Yeah," looking at Allison, "Yeah, completely. Uhh. I should go, I've got a - lacrosse game to get to. You're still coming, right?"**

 **Allison smiles brightly, "Of course I'm coming."**

 **Chris' eyes flicker between the two besotted teens. "We both are," he interrupts, causing both kids to look at him, their smiles dropping. Chris awkwardly brushes dirt off Scott's shoulder.**

"Cockblock," Isaac coughs not-so-subtly. Scott and him share easy grins, but behind it they also share pain and understanding. Isaac nods at him.

 **Pulling his locker open, Scott notices Jackson whispering to another player. He tries to use his hearing to listen in... But the slamming of lockers masks Jackson's voice and instead causes Scott to wince in pain. As the ringing begins to subside, the other players leave without so much as a glance at him. He takes a seat pulling out his gloves as Stiles approaches, dressed in her gear. "You gonna try to convince me not to play?" Scott asks her, not looking up.**

 **She shakes her head. "I just hope you know what you're doing." Scott can hear the disappointment in his friend's voice.**

" **If I don't play, I lose first line and Allison."**

" **Allison's not going anywhere! And it's one game that you really don't need to play."**

" **I wanna play! I wanna be on the team. I wanna go out with Allison. I want a semi - freaking normal life. Do you get that?"**

 **Stiles frowns at her friend. She moves closer to take a seat beside him, facing the opposite set of locker. Turning to him, Stiles tells him, "I get it," he doesn't look at her, so she wraps her fingers around his arm gently but firmly. "Hey, I mean it. I get it. But Scott you're not exactly normal anymore. And as much as I hate Derek he's right. Scott I saw what you turn into when you lose control. It's not pretty." He's still silent, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears she knows are welling in them. Sighing she tells him, "Fine."**

 **He looks at her wide eyes, "You're going to let me play?"**

" **As if I could stop you," she grins weakly. He throws his arms around her anyway, wringing a laugh from Stiles. Patting his back, she tells him, "But the first sign I get that you're wolfing out, I'm marching onto the field and hauling your furry ass outta there."**

" **Deal," he pulls away smiling at her.**

" **Good. Just try not to worry too much while you're out there, okay? Or get too angry."**

" **I got it."**

" **Or stressed."**

" **I got it."**

" **Don't think about Allison being in the stands. Or that her father's trying to kill you. Or that Derek's trying to kill you. Or the girl he killed. Or that you might kill someone. If a hunter doesn't kill you first -" she doesn't realise her unhelpful rambling until he's glaring at her. "I'm sorry. I'll stop," she smiles awkward. Squeezing his shoulder, she presses a kiss to his cheek. "Good luck."**

 **Outside as Scott makes his way to team benches, Lydia cuts him off. Snaking two fingers into his chest plate, she pulls him very, very close. "Scott - I just want you to remember one thing for tonight."**

" **Uh - Winning isn't everything?"**

" **Nobody likes a loser."**

"No pressure, Lyd," Scott mutters.

"Sorry, Scott."

Kira rubs his shoulder, offering him a sweet smile, "Somehow I think you'll be okay." He smiles back at her, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

 **Over on the benches, Coach takes a seat next to Jackson. "How's the shoulder?"**

" **It's fine."**

" **You feel any pain?"**

" **No."**

" **What if I gave it a big ol' punch?" His curls his fist as he says this, "Would you - would you feel any pain then?"**

 **Jackson stares at the odd man, like he's a total psycho. "Maybe."**

" **Listen, just go out there. Just give it your best. If you feel any pain, just -"**

 **As the coach struggles to finds his words, Jackson supplement, "Just..keep - playing?"**

 **Coach slaps him on the arm. "That's my boy," he grins proudly at the captain.**

 **The whistle blows sending Jackson, Scott and the team charging off the bench and onto the field. Stiles remains with the other bench warmers, nervously chewing the fingers of his gloves.**

Liam turns to Isaac. "If you were on the lacrosse team, why haven't we seen you yet?"

Isaac shrugs. "I'm not relevant, yet?" he offers.

Derek nods, "Makes sense. Isaac wasn't involved in any of this until I offered him the bite, and that's around Scott's third full moon. Until then, he's not relevant to this."

Malia rocks onto her knees, shifting to sit up. As she does this she points at Lydia, "Then why are we seeing so much of you and the Jackson kid. They're not in the know yet… are they?"

Stiles shakes her head. "No but Lydia was Allison's best friend. And Allison is kind of at the middle of everything without even realising it yet. And Jackson… well he was a selfish asshole who didn't know how to mind his own business."

Derek looks down at her. "Pot. Kettle."

She elbows him lightly, and he snorts back a chuckle.

 **Scott walks out to take his position. He pulls his helmet down and briefly closes his eyes, whispering a quiet prayer. "Please let this be okay. Please."**

 **Back on the benches, Sheriff taps Stiles on the shoulder. Grinning at her he asks, "So, you think you'll see any action tonight?"**

" **Action? Maybe," she answers, her father unaware of the nervous edge in her voice.**

 **The whistle blows and the players move. Jackson is quick to pass the ball to another teammate, who is unfortunately slap checked. Scott hurries forward to take it. Jackson seeing this runs forward too, and at the last second hits McCall from the side, sending him tumbling over. Stealing the ball, Jackson whips his stick around and hurls it straight into the net. The crowd on the bleachers cheers, shouts for Jackson erupting among them.**

"That's crap!" Malia shouts at the screen.

"Sweetheart," Lydia says in her most saccharine voice, "It's in the past. It's not a game where they can hear you."

"Still…" the werecoyote pouts.

 **The game continues on like this, the players actively avoiding passing to Scott, and every effort he makes to get the ball, squandered by Jackson or one of the other seniors. His mood isn't helped by the fact that Allison's in the stands holding up** " _ **I love Jackson'**_ **signs with Lydia. The only comic thing is watching Stiles chew a hole into her glove.**

 **As Scott adjusts his helmet, he hears something; the voices of the other players. Jackson's addressing them, "Only to me." Danny is the one to shed doubt on this, "But what if he's open?"**

" **Who's the captain, you or me?"**

" **Jackson, come on, dude, I just wanna win."**

" **We will win. What did I say? Huh? What - did - I say?**

 **Danny sighs, "Don't pass to McCall." Jackson nods, then moves to his position, passing by Scott. Scott who's standing with his gloves twisting around the stick, about a second away from snapping it into little pieces. When the whistle blows again, he looks up and through his helmet his eyes turn yellow.**

 **At the start of the next quarter, the Ref comes walking past the players with the ball but pauses by Scott. McCall is hunched-over, face masked in shadow under his helmet. "You okay, kid?"**

 **Scott doesn't answer or look up, simply nods. The Ref doesn't look convinced but takes it anyway.**

 **Both teams prepare for the draw. Low growling, animalistic gasps from Scott, has one particularly unnerved opposition player take a few tentative steps back.**

 **Back in the stands, Allison looks nervous, Lydia annoyed, and Argent confused. "Which one is Scott again?" he asks.**

" **Number 11. Otherwise known as the only one who hasn't caught a single ball this entire game," Lydia quips.**

" **I hope he's okay," Allison says.**

" **I hope we're okay. We need to win this." The strawberry blonde stands up, lifting yet another sign for Jackson. She convinces Allison to help her hold it, though it's obvious the brunette would rather be doing anything else.**

 **Head turned to the stands, Scott sees it. And that does it. He breathes a furious snarl between his teeth as his eyes bleed golden.**

 **The whistle blows.**

 **Jackson and the Opposing Player grapple for the ball, sending it flying up into the air. Scott leaps up, snatching it with uncanny precision. He lands and charges back down the field right past Jackson and the other players. With a sudden flick of the wrist, the ball goes flying. Right past the goalie and into the net. On the bleachers the crowd goes wild, especially Melissa and Allison. Lydia is knocked in the shoulder, only mildly, but her look is one of pure annoyance. On the sidelines, Stiles cheering wildly hugging one of the other benched players. Jackson looks pissed.**

 **Coach starts running down the sidelines, shouting, "Pass to McCall!" Stiles on his tail repeating his words with over enthusiasm.**

 **The whistle blows and Scott's off again. An opposing player gets the ball first but as he's looking for someone to pass to, his eyes land on Scott only feet away. Something about the way Scott stands and growls has him shit-scared. Sensing there's something dangerous about him, the player just tosses the ball to Scott.**

 **Stiles is chewing on her glove anxiously when Coach bobs down next to her. "Did the opposing team just deliberately pass us the ball?"**

" **Yes, I believe so, coach."**

" **Interesting."**

 **Charging past the other players like a lightning bolt, Scott fires on the net. The Goalie twists, lacrosse stick coming up to make the catch. But the ball sails straight through the pocket, tearing a hole into it. Fans in the bleachers cheer as the ball hits the net. The Goalie lowers his stick to see the busted pocket.**

 **Scott backs away as the opposing Coach approaches Finstock. The two start arguing, Stiles adding in her input about Scott's legal shot.**

"Stiles do you honestly think your input is going to do anything?"

"We got to keep the point didn't we?"

"Thanks to Finstock."

"Shut up, Isaac."

 **The whistle blows. Jackson and his opponent come to the centre. "Hey, what the hell's up with your teammate, man? What's he on?"**

 **Jackson shakes his head. "I don't know. Yet."**

Scott groans, "Why does everything think I'm on drugs?"

"Technically you are, I mean it enhances your performance, doesn't it?" Mason says.

All the werewolves mumble upsettingly. "So basically they're all cheaters?" Malia asks.

Lydia looks at her, "You're a werecoyote."

"Yeah, but I'm not using my powers to get on a team. Realistically the only people here who actually earned their spots first line are Liam and Stiles."

Isaac looks at Liam. "He's a werewolf too."

"Yeah but I use to play for Devonford. Lacrosse was my life before I became a werewolf," Liam explains.

"Oh," Isaac nods. Then looks at Malia, "Wait a minute I played first line… sometimes."

Malia shrugs. "Sue me. I don't really know you."

"Fair," he grunts.

" **Set!" The ref shouts. The whistle blows and both Jackson and the Opposing Player go for the ball which tumbles out of their grasp. Jackson slaps down trying to grab it but the ball spins into the air. Scott whipping past grabs it right in the middle of its flight again. He charges for the goal and something happens. A red haze overcomes his vision. Just like earlier in the week with Stiles in the locker room. With the other players closing in on him, he falters, as if not knowing where to go. On the sidelines, Stiles can already see what's going on. She knows the pure animal is beginning to take over. "No, no, no, no. No, Scott, no."**

 **There's too much noise. Scott can't focus on going towards the goals. All he's focussed on now, is finding his prey. Out of the chaos in the stands, a lone voice reaches him - Allison's voice, whispering, "You can do it, Scott. You can do it." He blinks, the glow in his eyes simmering back down, Allison's voice pulling him from the brink of animal fury. Then, as the opposing team advances, Scott shoots on the goal. And despite the Goalie's desperate dive, the ball hits the net. Cheering thunders around him. Breathing hard, Scott takes a few steps back.**

 **Everyone is coming toward him, people jumping off the bench to congratulate him. His mother, Allison, Lydia... Argent. Retreating back, Scott yanks one of his gloves off to reveal the claws at the tips of his fingers. He takes off towards the locker rooms, Allison seemingly the only one to notice where he's gone.**

 **Stiles collapses onto the bench, still a nervous wreck despite the wide grin on her face. Behind her, her Dad gets off his cell phone. Stiles notices. "Dad, what's wrong?"**

 **Scott slams through the door of the locker room. Ripping his helmet off, her runs to the mirror, coming face to face with the werewolf the monster. Crying out in frustration, he sends a clawed fist into the mirror, shattering it. Millions of fragments rain down below him, reflections of his face fracturing into pieces. As one shard of mirrored glass wobbles to a standstill on the floor, the locker room door swings open again.**

 **Allison enters the shadows of the locker room. "Scott? Scott, are you here?" She hears no reply , but finds the shattered glass. Up in the rafters, Scott follows her watching closely, his vision still a red haze. He moves on.**

 **Allison turns around. She hears a noise. Despite her better judgement, she follows it. She finds a figure standing in the shadows. Wearing an 11 jersey. "Scott?" He doesn't answer. Without hesitating she reaches out for him. He turns around, his face adorably human. "You scared me. Are you alright?"**

" **Yeah. Sorry, I - just got kind of lightheaded for a sec."**

" **Maybe it's the adrenaline. You were pretty amazing out there."**

" **I'm sorry for acting really weird today."**

" **It's okay. I can handle weird."**

 **Scott smiles at her sheepishly. "To be totally honest, you, uh - make me kind of nervous."**

" **I do?" she asks.**

" **Yeah, kind of like really nervous. I just—I - Wanna make sure I get my second chance."**

" **You already have it. I'm just waiting for you to take it," she grins at him, a sly glint in her eye. She bacs away from Scott, moving more into the shadows.**

 **Scott follows her. "Well - maybe I need to learn to take more chances."**

" **Maybe you do." Their eyes meet for a second, the bodies pulling closer without either of them realising. Her eyes slip to his lips first and he smiles a little before moving to rest his forehead against hers. For a moment they share the same breath and then he takes a chance. He presses lip against her. Allison immediately returns it, pulling him closer to her.**

Argent coughs uncomfortably, looking at his twiddling thumbs. Melissa pats his arm, shooting him a teasing smile.

 **Stiles stumbles in, but catches them, awkwardly ducking behind the lockers.**

 **Allison pulls away, her smile painfully bright. "I gotta get back to my dad." Scott nods. As Allison's leaving she spots Stiles. "Hi, Stiles."**

" **Hey," Stiles awkwardly waves at her new friend as she disappears.**

 **Scott approaches Stiles a dopey smile on his face. "I kissed her."**

" **I saw."**

" **She kissed me."**

" **Saw that too. That's pretty good, huh?"**

 **Scott shakes himself out of his trance. "I - I - I don't know how, but I controlled it. I pulled it back. Maybe I can do this. Maybe it's not that bad."**

 **Stiles looks at him with a pained smile. "Yeah, heh. We'll talk later, then," she tries to leave but he stops her frowning.**

" **What?" he asks, knowing something's wrong.**

 **Stiles' grin falters. It drops altogether as she releases a deep sigh. "The, uh, medical examiner looked at the other half of the body we found."**

" **And?"**

" **Well, I'll keep it simple. Medical examiner determines killer of girl to be animal, not human. Derek's human, not animal. Derek not killer. Derek let out of jail."**

 **Scott gasps is loud disbelief, "Are you kidding?"**

" **No, and here's a bigger kick in the ass. My dad I.D.'d the dead girl. Both halves. Her name was Laura Hale."**

" **Hale?"**

" **Derek's sister."**

Resting her chin on Derek's shoulder, her forehead against his cheek, Stiles whispers, "I'm sorry." His stubble scratches her slightly; he shakes his head. "Neither of you knew." On his other side, Scott's got an arm on his shoulder, his puppy brown eyes full of apology for Derek. Deep down he feels that he could never apologise to Derek enough for desecrating his sister's grave.

Melissa takes Derek by surprise. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. He relaxes into her touch, because it reminds him so much of his mother's hugs. Brushing his hair, the nurse smiles at him sadly. "You poor thing. You're so young and you've been through so much."

Around the cave, everyone else offers their sympathies quietly. All having heard some of this story vaguely, at the very least knowing Laura was killed by Peter, save for Liam and Mason who are yet to learn this truth.

Malia feels an odd sort of familial loss; every time she looks at Derek, she wonders how different her life would have been had her mother not wanted to kill her; would she have been raised in the Hale House? Would she have survive the Fire or perished too? She feels wrong for feeling pained by her family's deaths, by Laura's death, but then she meets Derek's grim gaze - there's an understanding in his hazel green eyes. He tells her it's okay to miss them, even if she never knew.

 **Alone on the field, and still fuming, Jackson's eyes focus on something left in the grass... Scott's glove. Slowly, he picks it up, noticing odd perforations at the fingertips. Jackson turns to find someone watching him from the sidelines... Derek. He glares at the younger boy, a look that says,** ' _ **Back the fuck off'**_ **.**

 **With that Derek turns, walking away from the field.**

"That can't be good," Kira says.

Scott nods, "Definitely not. I mean, yeah we're cool with him now but…"

"He used to be a total asshole that almost got us all killed," Isaac supplies.

Parrish narrows his eyes in thought. "Wait is he the kanima?"

"Was-Is-Part Kanima," Lydia explains. "It's complicated. Just watch."

 **In Stiles' room, she drops face down onto her bed, a welcoming groan muffled by the blue sheets. Spread-eagled, she continues to lie there, dismissive of the fact she's still wearing her workout gear and lacrosse jersey, her stick in hand.**

 **She's about to succumb to sleep when she roughly flipped over onto her back. Her first instinct is to slam her lacrosse into the attacker's head… except a strong arm catches it a mere inch from his scowling face. Tearing it from her grasp, the angry werewolf throws across the room. Stiles follows it with her eyes, self-loathingly eyeing her open window.**

"Hey we should start a tally on how many times Derek's breaks into someone's house!" Malia cheerfully suggests.

"I have a better idea," Isaac says, smirking slyly. "Betting pool. Whose house does Derek break into most?"

Lydia, Braeden, Isaac, Kira and Malia have money on the Stilinski home. Argent, after a lot of badgering from Isaac, also put money on the Stilinski home, shooting an apologetic look to the Sheriff. Liam, Parrish, Melissa and Mason put money on the McCall home. Derek, Stiles, Scott, Noah and Noshiko could not be swayed to put their own bets. Well Derek wasn't allowed, because only he would know where went most.

Isaac clarifies the definition of Breaking and Entering : "No invite. No front door."

"Are we done?" Derek growls.

" **I told you to stop him!" Derek growls down at her.**

 **Despite her fear, she rolls her eyes. "Gah- Scott won't listen to me! Do you want me to write it in ink for you?"**

 **He continues to glare at her. His eyes flicker to her arm. Moving his hand down her arm, painfully slow, till it rests below her elbow, he squeezes tightly. Stiles bites her tongue, fail to hold a squeal-turned-groan of pain. Turning her head she can see the blood starting to leak through the bandages. A moment later, his weight lifts from her and she hesitatingly sits up, coddling her arm to her chest, glaring at him. He rolls his eyes and moves forward again. She flinches away. "I'm gonna help."**

" **By what? Opening up the wounds more? Why not add a matching set to my other arm?"**

 **Grabbing her arm forcefully, ignoring her… growl?... Derek mutters, "Don't tempt me."**

 **Stiles tries to pull her hand away but his grip is firm. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she's about to ask what the hell he's doing, when the black veins appear. A moment later the stinging sensation drains from her arm and Derek drops her arm.**

" **What-"**

" **I took away the pain. You're welcome."**

" **You hurt me in the first place!" she scoffs.**

 **He leans close to her, forcing her to lean back almost entirely into her bed again. "No, Scott did," he answers.**

Scott looks at Stiles. "You told me I didn't-"

"I didn't want you to worry," she shrugs.

"When?"

"When you tried to kill. You took a swing, and your claws just got through. It wasn't too deep. Didn't leave a scar or anything."

Scott pouts, "But I still hurt you."

Again Stiles shrugs, not saying anything more.

" **He'll do it again. He could have done it tonight," Derek tells her.**

" **But he didn't."**

" **He could have. I saw him. He shifted during the game."**

" **Scott controlled it!" Stiles stands so she's toe to toe with Derek.**

" **Scott got lucky! Next time he won't be so lucky and you're the one who's going to end up dead."**

 **With those words thrown at her, she loses focus of his face. For a moment, she sees murderous amber eyes. Stumbling back, her legs hit the bed and unceremoniously drops onto her ass again.**

 **Finally she says, "What are you doing here? Why aren't terrorising Scott?"**

 **Derek doesn't answer for a while. Stiles looks at him, carefully. This is the first chance she's had in two weeks to actually look at him. His hair's the right amount of styled but unkempt. His tanned face, darkened somewhat by experience and that ever-present scowl of his. He has slight stubble and she can't help but think he'd look nice with a close-shaven beard. And maybe a smile. Muscular arms folded across his chest. This time he left the leather home, wearing a navy blue henley which didn't leave much to the imagination. He towered over her as she sat but she knew he stood at 6 foot, less than an inch taller than her.**

" **This ends now." Her eyes fly up to his.**

" **What does?" She says uncomfortably, feeling as if she's been caught staring at the cookie jar… the tank, tall, broody cookie jar.**

From his spot on the ground, Isaac snorts loudly, hiding a laugh. Lydia raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. "What?" she asks as if annoyed by the interruption.

"She's totally checking him out."

"I'm not- I mean I wasn't!"

It's Derek's turn to hide a chuckle.

" **Throwing me in jail. Not trusting me. I'm Scott's only chance at surviving."**

 **Stiles crosses her arms. "Really, you think threatening to kill him is helping him?"**

" **I was trying to protect him."**

" **More like you were trying to protect yourself." Derek stays silent. Only glares at her, and it's enough to have Stiles fidgeting, more than usual. She cracks, "Okay fine. Give me one good reason why we should trust you. I mean- you killed that girl."**

 **Derek's glare turns into a frown. "You don't believe that."**

" **Uh, yeah. I do."**

 **He steps closer to her, so that their chests are barely an inch apart. "Don't."**

 **Her brows furrow, not quite understanding what he means. "Don't not believe me."**

" **Why wouldn't I not believe you?"**

" **You really think I killed Laura. My sister. You saw-" he cuts himself short, clenching his jaw and stepping away from her.**

" **What? What did I see?"**

 **He turns his back to her and heads straight for her window, disappearing into the night without so much as another word. Stiles stares at the open space a few seconds longer then mutters, "Vague as fuck, creepy asshole."**

Mason fans himself. "Talk about sexual tension."

Stiles and Derek blush. "There wasn't anything sexual about that," Stiles argues.

Lydia hums amused.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Welcome back lovely readers. So here we are up to Pack Mentality! Yay! I apologise if anyine thinks I'm rehashing the series and it's dull; it's onky because the story is still picking up. We can expect subtle canon changes thanks to Stiles being a girl very soon and we'll see this adapted into the "flashbacks-memories-show".**

 **REVIEWS:**

 **J.d - I had a lot of trouble with this one, mostly because I had plotted another female Stiles fic (Not _A Little Mischief_ ) with a certain actress in mind when I started, and that translated across when I began this. But I found with both stories as I write and now with _A Little Mischief_ also in the picture my idea for who should play Stiles keeps changing. At the moment I'm basically describing her with Dylan O'Brien's colouration i.e. whiskey eyes, Brunette, pale skin mild Cali tan; she's curvacious mostly because I like depicting women on the heavier side of life and dealing with those issues in my fics sometimes, in my head someine who would be size 10-12 US which is considered obese by Hollywood standards (ridiculous!); most of my reasoning for this is 1. Polish women tend to be on the taller, larger bone structure side of life (I envy those 6 foot wonders!) and 2. For my fic _A little mischief_ Stiles is Loki's daughter - therefore a demigod or demi-jotun if you will, therefore I'd hope for her to be a little mire Amazonian in appearance if you catch my drift - as Tom Hiddleston once said, there ain't no short ass gods! ... or something along those lines. That said, not always easy to find actresses who fit my image, particularlh when characterisation portrayal is more important. The candidates I do have to portray Stiles in _Nostalgia's a bitch_ are: Emily Bett Rickards (reason: Felicity Smoak, enough said), Sozie Bacon (reasons: Skye Miller and Kristen), Alexandria Daddario, Jennifer Lawrence (reason: Jennifer Lawrence) and not necessarily in that order. I know they all look very differsnt but at the ens of they day, it comes down to aho you think portray Stiles' personality and development best, and as above, I'm basing that of other roles these actresses have had. I know that was a larger response than you expected but I have a tendency to rant at 10:45 in the night. **

**Guest: Yay! I converted you to Sterek! Honestly I'm more a Stydia fan but have loved the way the show portrayed their relationship, I never want to write it any other way.**

 **Celineteana: Merci beaucoup!**

 **Now... the story...**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters.**

* * *

 **The scene opens on the school grounds at night. Scott's leading Allison towards a school bus, so they can be alone. Giving a playful smile, he pries open the doors of the bus, holding it for her. Allison slowly steps inside, Scott at her heel. He leads Allison into the aisle and toward the rear of the bus. He takes the last seat by the back window. She sits down as well, in the seat across from him. Throwing her another playful smile, Scott slips into the seat with her. She turns to him and in the next moment, they're kissing, his lips over hers in the back of the dark, empty school bus. His hands descend to her thighs, pulling her up to his own body. Allison's fingers slide over the nape of his neck, her back arching up, body pushing into his.**

Chris coughs. "Is this really necessary to watch?"

"It was just a dream," Scott defends, catching onto the glare the Argent is throwing his way.

"That doesn't make this any better Scott."

 **Scott's fingernails grasp the seat, turning to claws which rake through the material. He jerks back suddenly, eyes squeezed shut. "What's wrong?" Allison asks, pushing herself up.**

 **"Get away."**

 **"Scott? Scott?" She asks worriedly, moving closer to him, where he'd backed into the seats across. Suddenly his open wide, revealing them to be a seething yellow.**

 **"Get away from me!" Shocked, Allison pulls back. She rushes down the aisle as fast as she can when Scott's clawed hand snags her ankle, tripping her hard. He tries to drag her towards the back but Allison manages to kick herself free. Staggering back from the blow, Scott roars in fury, rattling the bus. He charges, massive clawed hands ripping up a bus seat just as Allison reaches the door, pushing out. But she's stuck. She tries to jam her way out, finally getting an arm through, when a clawed hand pulls her back. The last thing heard before the scene fades to black, is her scream.**

Kira's rolling out knots in her boyfriend's shoulders, his head in his hands.

"Scott," Kira says, but the young Alpha, quickly takes to his feet.

"I need a minute," and then he's gone, disappearing down one of the passageways.

The kitsune tries to follow but Stiles quickly stands to stop her. "Someone should talk to him," Kira says. Stiles nods, "Yeah. But not you." She tries softening the blow with a sympathetic look, and despite the hurt that wells within Kira, she understands why she would be the last person to talk to Scott.

"Actually, I should be the last person to talk to Scott," Stiles says, adding, "And yeah, you did say that out loud."

Kira blushes, dropping her chin.

Melissa and Isaac both quickly stand up, offering to go. But it's Chris who stops an argument before it can break out, "I'll talk to Scott. I have to talk to Scott." With that, he leaves, following after where the alpha went.

There's an awkward silence as everyone, broken by Liam asking, "How long do you think we've been here?"

"Two. Three hours. Maybe more," Lydia answer, yawning.

"Anyone else feeling hungry?" Braeden asks and is answered with multiple 'yes' and moans for food.

The gods appear amused. Apollo snaps his fingers and to every one is a cup.

"What is this?" Sheriff asks, eyeing the drink.

Noshiko answers for her friends, "Nectar. Drink this and it will satiate you."

She is not wrong.

* * *

Out in the passages, Chris finds Scott hunched over, one hand on the wall. When Scott looks up at him, his face is wet with tears. "It still hurts," is all he manages to say before he's swept into the older man's embrace.

"I know it does," Chris replies emphatically. "The important thing is to know it's not your fault."

Through his tears and short breaths, he mumbles, "How is it not? I might as well have killed her myself."

Argent's grip on him tightens; he pushes the boy away but still holds him close so that he can see his face in the dim light. "Don't say that!" he hisses at Scott. "You didn't kill Allison. You loved her. Isaac loved her. Stiles and Lydia loved her. I loved her. And she loved us. She loved us so much that she was willing to die for us. For you Scott. For her pack." Chris' expression turn dark but not with hate. "So don't you dare take away everything she stood for, everything she died for. Don't you dare ever say you killed her. Because you didn't Scott. You gave her friends where she lost family. You gave her hope and life. Do you understand me?"

Scott nods and Chris pulls him in for one more embrace.

When Scott and Chris return to the cave, they see that everyone's had a chance to stretch their legs and take up new seats. Lydia's seated along the right wall between Parrish and Braeden who's tucked away in the corner. Next to Braeden, along the back wall is Malia curled in next to Kira, Isaac next to her telling them about his adventures in France; Liam and Mason are lying in front of them; Derek is in next to Isaac, and the Sheriff is perched up on a pillowed rockbed (that wasn't there before) in the corner; Melissa and Noshiko seemed to have hijacked the end of the Sheriff's raised platform. Argent passes by Scott, heading straight for the other parents and Melissa makes way for him on the end, handing him a cup of something. Stiles is seated in the corner next to Derek, her feet stretched out along the floor of the platform their parents occupy. When Scott looks at Stiles, she meets his gaze with a tight smile before looking down to her hands again. He reserves a sigh and moves to take up seat between Isaac and Derek, when Stiles curls her legs up. She looks up at him expectantly. He smiles gratefully, taking a seat with his back against the platform, so he's facing Lydia and Parrish. Stiles hands him a cup. He raises a brow and she answers, "It helps with the hunger." Right at that moment his stomach rumbles and he quickly drinks. A warm feeling floods through him, an odd sort of wholeness. "Thanks," he tells her.

"Your welcome," she smiles gently. From the corner of his eye he can see Derek fighting a smug smirk. Scott rolls his eyes but fondly. Above them, Melissa and Noah smile at one another.

"May we resume?" Athena asks.

The group quietens, looking to Scott. He nods.

 **The screen had stilled on Scott's dream, the last image of closed bus doors with a bloody handprint. The scene quickly cuts to the main hallway of BHHS. Scott enters, Stiles on his tail asking him, "So you killed her?"**

 **"I don't know. I just woke up. And I was sweating like crazy, and I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream where I woke up like that before."**

 **"Really? I have. Usually ends a little differently."**

 **The pair turn down the hallway, Scott with a disgusted look. "A," I meant I've never had a dream that felt that real, and "B," never give me that much detail about you in bed again."**

Stiles blushes hearing her father groan about needing a drink. This really isn't her day.

 **"Noted. Let me take a guess here -"**

 **"No, I know, you think it has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow, like I'm gonna lose control and rip her throat out."**

 **Stiles stutters, "Uh... No, of course not." But then Scott shoots her this look and she caves, "Ok, yeah, that's totally it." Scott sighs, hanging his head low. "Hey, come on, it's gonna be fine, all right? Personally, I think you're handling this pretty freakin' amazingly. You know, it's not like there's a lycanthropy for beginners class you can take."**

 **"Yeah, not a class, but maybe a teacher."**

 **They share a look before simultaneously sighing defeatedly one name: "Derek."**

 **They keep walking. "You know, I'm still not entirely convinced he won't kill us for getting his tossed in jail."**

 **"Yeah, I know," Scott chuckles but then frowns, "It's just - chasing her, dragging her to the back of the bus, it felt so real."**

 **"How real?"**

 **"Like it actually happened."**

 **The two emerge through double doors to the quad. Across the parking lot, police tape cordons off one of the School Buses. Sheriff Stilinski and his Deputies oversee a Lab Tech examining the rear bus door hanging from its hinge. Blood stains it.**

 **Stiles decides to unhelpfully quip, "I think it did."**

"Holy- You did that?" Mason looked at Scott shocked.

"No!"

"But you could?"

"If you're asking are we that dangerous, then yes. We're predators. But we don't have to be killers," Derek answers the boy. Mason nods then opens his mouth to speak again but Derek, having had two years of experience dealing with Stiles, guesses exactly what the freshman's next question is and promptly says, "Why was the bus driver attacked? I don't see the point explaining since the visions will probably do it for me. Keep watching. It'll become clearer."

 **After the bus shock, Stiles and Scott spend the next several minutes quickly scouring the school for Allison. Scott's probably sent out a hundred messages and calls to her, but much to his dismay she hasn't answered any. Right when he's about to lose his grip (after he smashed some poor guy's locker door in), Scott literally runs into Allison. "You scared the hell outta me!" she gasps, laughing a little.**

 **"You're okay," Scott breathes, eyes wide as if he'd just witnessed a miracle.**

 **Allison shakes her head, amused at the cute oddball in front of her. "Once my heart starts beating again, yeah." She continues to pick up her books, dropped during their run-in. Scott helps her, but absentmindedly; his sole focus is on her. "What?" she asks, feeling his lingering gaze on her.**

 **Scott smiles softly, "I'm just happy to see you."**

 **Overhead, the principal makes an announcement that despite the incident on the bus, school will proceed as per usual. Hefting the last of her books into her arms, Allison flashes him one last smile, asking him to save her a seat at lunch, before running off to class. As he looks down the hallway after her, he notices Jackson holding the damaged locker door, confusion and irritance etched on his pretty face. Jackson notices Scott's staring. "What are you looking at, asswipe?" Scott simply hides a smirk and takes off to chemistry.**

 **In Chemistry class, The teacher, Mr Harris, stands at the board writing down chemical interactions while Scott and Stiles converse quietly in their seats."Maybe it was my blood on the door," Scott whispers to her. "Could have been animal blood. You know, maybe you caught a rabbit or something."**

 **"Mmmm, rabbit," Malia moans. Braeden and Parrish quirk a brow at the girl and may subtly shuffle away from the hungry look on her face.**

 **Scott looks confused, "And did what?"**

 **"Ate it," Stiles states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.**

 **Scott on the other hand looks appalled. "Raw?"**

 **"No, you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven."**

"Why do you have to be so sarcastic?" Liam asks, because as much as he admires her wit, it pisses him off too.

"It's a reaction. See I'm allergic to stupid questions."

Liam frowns. Mason chuckles at his and Scott's expense.

 **Stiles huffs, "I don't know, you're the one who can't remember anything."**

 **"Ms. Stilinksi," Mr Harris interrupts. "If that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while."**

"I don't like him," Malia states.

"Nobody liked him. But he had a special vendetta for me," Stiles answers.

"What's with the past tense? He moved or something?" Liam asks.

"He was ritually sacrificed," Lydia answers without hesitation.

 **"I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?" Stiles of course protests but it doesn't stop Harris. Picking up their books, Stiles and Scott move to separate desk across the room. But just as Stiles sets her books down, the girl next to her jumps up, pointing out the windows and exclaiming, "Hey, I think they found something."**

 **In one motion the class bolts to the window to see for themselves. Even Mr. Harris. Two EMTs emerge from the foliage, pushing a gurney. Strapped to it is a man's body.**

 **"That's not a rabbit," Scott whispers to Stiles, shaken.**

 **The gurney rolls toward an ambulance when suddenly the body atop it lurches up. All the students gasp, some jumping back in fright. As the EMT's ease the victim down, Scott steps back from the others. Stunned. Devastated. Stiles slowly turns to him, "Okay. This is good, this is good. He got up, he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that."**

 **"Stiles -" he looks at her with fear written in his eyes, "I did that."**

 **Lunch trays in hand, Stiles and Scott find an empty table for themselves. "But dreams aren't memories," Stiles tells him.**

 **"Then it wasn't a dream. Something happened last night, and I can't remember what."**

 **"What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?"**

 **"Because during the full moon he wasn't changed. He was in total control while I was running around in the middle of the night attacking some totally innocent guy."**

 **"You don't know that."**

 **"I don't not know it. I can't go out with Allison. I have to cancel."**

 **"No, you're not cancelling, okay?"**

"Wasn't it not that long ago you were trying to cancel his date with her?" Noshiko puts forth.

Stiles nods, "Yeah, but that was before I realised he could learn to control it."

 **"You can't just cancel your entire life. We'll figure it out."**

 **"Figure what out?" a voice asks. The pair look up to see Lydia taking a seat at their table. Both of them look at each other confused. "Just, uh, homework," Scott offers, while Stiles mouth to him, 'Why is she sitting with us?'**

 **The popular kids take a seat, Lydia besides Allison who's next to Scott. Danny reluctantly takes a seat next to Stiles, awkwardly ignoring her friendly smile. Jackson rounds the head of the table last, ordering a senior to get up.**

 **"How come you never ask Danny to get up?" the guy asks.**

 **"Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot." Danny retorts cheekily. Huffing, the senior picks up his tray and leaves altogether, letting Jackson slide into his vacated seat. Danny then picks up the conversation, "So I hear they're saying it's some type of animal attack. Probably a cougar."**

 **"I heard mountain lion," Jackson says.**

 **"A cougar is a mountain lion," Lydia remarks, quickly realising her mistake given the odd looks she gets from all but Stiles. Quickly recovering, the red-head bombshell pouts confusedly. "Isn't it?" she poses to her boyfriend.**

"You guys weren't kidding when you said Lydia used to pretend she wasn't smart," Kira says, voice low.

Malia frowns, looking to the red-head. "Why'd you pretend to be stupid? I wish I was as smart as you."

The compliment touches Lydia, who despite overcoming her self-esteem issues can't help the hurt she feels remembering how hard it had once been when she'd been Queen of BHHS. Smiling at the spitfire werecoyote, she says, "You're not stupid, Malia. But I was. I thought if I pretended I was dumb, then people would like me. That Jackson wouldn't feel threatened by me…" she trails off, realising how wrong she was in that thought. She holds nothing against Jackson, though it'd be a lie if she didn't admit to herself that at the start of their relationship, she'd felt that way. With time, she'd realised he didn't really care. That he loved her, brains or no brains. She remembers him telling her before he left for London that the thing he loved about her most was her genius mind, and hoped someday that she'd let other people see that side of her. She'd promised herself then to stop hiding. It helped that her psychotic episodes courtesy of Peter mind-jacking her had taken a hit to her status in the high-school food chain, thereby making her decision easier. What went a longer way was knowing for the first time that she had true friends who cared about her for who she reallyw as and not who she pretended to be. Glancing at Stiles and Scott, Lydia wears a sad smile, silently regretting never getting to know either of them before Allison came along.

While her life is infinitely more dangerous since befriending them, she has never felt safer or happier.

The banshee tunes back into the flickering screen in time to catch her younger self suggesting a group date.

 **"Hanging out?" Scott chokes. "Like, the four of us? Do you wanna hang out, like us and them?" he directs that last question to Allison who awkwardly replies: "Yeah, I guess. Sounds fun."**

 **"You know what else sounds fun?" Jackson asks raising his fork, "Stabbing myself in the face with this fork."**

 **Beneath her breath, Stiles mutters, "Be my guest," earning a glare from Lydia and Jackson and a muffled laugh from Allison who tries to pass it off as a coughing fit when Lydia's glare turns on her.**

 **Waving out her long curls, the red-head turns back to her jock boyfriend, "How 'bout bowling? You love to bowl."**

 **"Yeah, with actual competition."**

 **Leaning forward, Allison challenges Jackson "How do you know we're not actual competition?" she turns to ask Scott if he can bowl, but it sounds more like she's assuming he can.**

 **"Sort of," Scott shrugs sheepishly.**

 **"Is it sort of, or yes?" Jackson mocks. Everyone turns back to Scott, glancing between him and Jackson as if watching a tennis matching. Stiles is nervously downing curly fries and juice, so much so it's practically spilling out her lips.**

"Nervous much, honey," the Sheriff chuckles.

"Hey I was living through Scott, vicariously! I didn't want him to screw up. His sex life was my sex life."

Dead silence echoes in the cavern. Pursing her lips, Stiles thinks over what she just said. Grimacing, she adds, "Let's er- scratch that from the record, shall we?"

Above her head both her father and Melissa groan. "I wish I was deaf," she hears her father mutter.

Across the cavern from them, Liam watches his fingers, far too casually twiddling his thumbs. He coughs awkwardly. "Uh, guys? Just um… you know… for curiosity - no, not curiosity… er… um… history! Yes, for historical purposes, um…"

"Spit it out kid," Isaac demands irritably, though there's an unmistakable amusement in his gaze, knowing full well where Scott's beta seems to be going with this.

Sighing defeatedly Liam pouts. Nervously he picks up his gaze to meet that of his Alpha's. "Have you and Stiles ever… you know?"

Stiles and Scott share horrified looks. Well Scott looks more embarrassed than anything. "We already talked about this-"

Coming to his friend's defence Mason corrects, "Well technically you guys admitted you have no feelings for each other as of then-" he gestures towards the screen, "-you know that's more than just being like siblings. But like, did anything ever happen between you guys before that? I mean, you guys are insanely close. It kind of makes sense that maybe something happened way before all of this."

Stiles shifts nervously in her seat, ignoring everyone's questioning gaze besides Derek's. Then all of a sudden she hears, "Well there was this one time..."

"Dude!" she hisses at Scott. "We agreed never to talk about that!"

"I'm sorry."

"You're full of sorry's lately aren't you," she spits, knowing it's unfair to him when he's been trying so hard, especially after she'd just given him hope that she'd accepted his olive branch. But she can't help that she's still pissed and, now, embarrassed.

Kira nervously glances between her boyfriend and his best friend. "What happened?"

"Nothing-"

"Scott, please," Kira asks. He can hear it in her voice, as strong and firm and calm as she sounds, he can tell there's a hint of pain or distrust.

It's Stiles who answers for him. "We slept together." You could hear a pin drop. Besides her, she feels Derek shift uncomfortably, almost hesitating to move away from her. She glances at him, but his face is a stone cold mask, refusing to reveal his emotions. But there's something in his eyes. She'd seen it before. When she found him grieving for his lost betas. When Cora was dying. When they were in Mexico. It was like he was seeing her for the first time, seeing someone he didn't recognise. Only this time she didn't like it. His eyes swept over her face carefully. Quickly she blinks, turning away in a vain attempt to ignore the way he's silently profiling her. Looking at Kira and Lydia, she explains, "It happened the summer after sophomore year. After… everything with the hunters and Allison leaving," she and Scott wince guiltily at her own words. "The first full moon after Allison left was… hard. But I managed. The second was worse. Stiles started dating this guy from Devonford, but after two weeks caught him sleeping with his ex. So… I figured that we both needed to get drunk. And Stiles had been working on a way to get me drunk for a while so..." The girl in question grins sheepishly under her father's glare.

Coughing, she adds, "Yeah I figured with a controlled amount of wolfsbane and at least 5 gallons of vodka, it might work… and it did."

"Anyway things were emotional, and we were out of our minds drunk… one thing led to another…" Scott pouts, looking up at Kira. "I'm sorry I never told you."

"You said nothing ever happened between you guys," his girlfriend whispers.

"Technically nothing did," Stiles answers. "Seriously. We never meant for it to happen. It was a mistake, one we both regret. Honestly we didn't talk for a week until we both cracked and gave half-arsed apologies that ended with us on weekend gaming binge." Kira doesn't look placated by that, so Stiles adds, "Will it help if I tell you we didn't leave my room all weekend-"

"No."

"You didn't let me finish. I was going to say we didn't leave my room all weekend, even to use the bathroom."

"EW!" Everyone groaned. Well, Lydia screeched and Malia looked unperturbed by it all. "Okay that was a lie. We left for #2… but not #1."

"What did you do for #1?" Parrish asks, instantly regretting the question.

"Well I used a bottle, 'cos I'm a lady," earns her various snorts... "And Scott… well let's just say there's a reason why Mr Rosenberg's roses don't grow anymore."

Lydia and Kira share appalled looks. But then Kira crawls over to Scott, pulling him into a hug and popping a kiss on Stiles' cheek. "Thank you for telling me the truth, guys," she smiles shyly.

"So we're good?" Scott asks, afraid.

She leans into him, pressing a passionate kiss against his lips that leaves him chasing when she pulls away. Smiling widely, she says, "We're good. I just wish you'd told me the truth."

Stiles grins, "Sure thing shorty. You got nothing to worry about. Mostly 'cos we don't remember much. It probably wasn't even good."

"Hey!"

"Roll tape!"

Everyone's eyes turn back to the screen, still slightly dazed and disturbed by that revelation. Of course it would stay a secret, knowing it wouldn't do anyone good if the anyone in town and particularly the high school got word of Scott and Stiles' relationship. It's clear as day they're meant to be friends, soul-bros for life. No matter their indiscretions and arguments.

Relaxing back into her corner, Stiles throws one last look at Derek. It feels like he's pulled away from her some, making her sigh before turning back to the screen.

Just as the light flickers, she feels a large but soft fingers brush over hers. They're hesitant. She feels her heart jump in her throat. Swallowing, she parts her fingers against the soft dirt, raising them slightly to brush against his palm. Taking the hint, Derek slides his fingers alongs hers, curling their hands together.

 **Puppy eyes narrowing Scott leans across the table, glaring at Jackson. "Yes. In fact, I'm a great bowler."**

 **The scene cuts to Scott and Stiles exiting the cafeteria doors into one of the many busy school hallways.**

 **"You're a terrible bowler!" Stiles announces.**

 **"I know! I'm such an idiot," Scott chastises himself.**

 **"God, it was like watching a car wreck. I mean, first it turned into the whole group date thing. And then out of nowhere comes that phrase," Stiles gags, unable to say it.**

 **"Hang out," Scott groans, hopelessly.**

 **" You don't hang out with hot girls, okay? It's like death. Once it's hanging out, you might as well be her gay best friend. You and Danny can start hanging out."**

Liam leans over to Mason, whispering, "Isn't Stiles a hot girl?"

Mason nods, muttering under his breath, "Guess that makes Scott her gay best friend."

They jump hearing Isaac's voice, louder and clearer announcing, "You don't know the half of it."

Scott frowns at them. "I resent that."

Stiles pats his shoulder, while Kira pecks his cheek. "Don't worry, we know you're not gay."

Stiles grimaces, "No offence, but I wouldn't touch that with a ten foot pole. Again I mean." Derek snorts, hiding his mirth.

 **"How is this happening?" Scott tugs his hair, frantic. " I either killed a guy or I didn't."**

 **Pouting her lips, Stiles says to herself, "I don't think Danny likes me very much."**

 **Having a different conversation, Scott continues, "I ask Allison on a date, and now we're hanging out-" "Am I not attractive to gay guys?"**

 **"I make first line, and the team captain wants to destroy me, and now—" Scott looks at his watch, eyes widening with shock, "-now I'm gonna be late for work." He takes off down the hallway ignoring Stiles shouting after him, "Wait, Scott, you didn't - am I attractive to gay guy - you didn't answer my question."**

Lydia looks at Stiles. "You have weird priorities."

"Me!" Stiles gasps. "Are you kidding? Scott. Jackson. Liam-" she lists on her fingers, "Have you met them?"

The True Alpha is about to argue, when he feels Derek lay a hand on his shoulder. The older wolf leans forward, "You know it's true. Don't go there." Again Scott looks ready to argue, but pauses a second, thinking it over and deciding it would be in his best interests not to say anything.

Across them Mason says, "I think Stiles is attractive. Actually all you girls are. And guys. Except Liam. 'Cos that would be weird."

"Aww thank you, Liam's friend," Malia says.

Mason frowns. "Do you not know my name?"

Malia's face is impassive.

 **On screen, Scott rushes into the vet's office, apologising to the familiar face of Deaton for being late.**

 **"You're all of two minutes late."**

 **"I just don't want you to think I'm slacking."**

 **"Scott, I guarantee you, you're one of the least slacking kids in this town."**

 **They go about their work, only for the Sheriff to appear, glasses on, face dead-serious. It appears as if Scott's having a mild stroke, shocked and frozen where he stands no doubt at loss for words as to his impending arrest at the hands of his best friend's father. Suddenly the door opens and a large dog comes in, the Sheriff behind letting it lead by its leash.**

 **"Hey, I see somebody's ready to get their stitches out," Deaton remarks, unleashing the animal and helping it onto the table.**

 **The Sheriff smiles at the man then turns to Scott. "Hey there, Scott. You staying out of trouble?"**

 **"Yeah," he answers shakily. Luckily for him, the Sheriff thinks nothing of it.**

 **The Sheriff then turns to Deaton and begins to question him regarding the apparent animal attacks, Scott trying his best to discreetly eavesdrop. He perks up when he hears the word wolf.**

 **"A wolf?" he accidentally blurts, earning the scrutinising gazes of both his father figures. Fumbling he says, "I mean, I think I read somewhere that wolves haven't been in California for, like, 60 years."**

 **"True enough," Deaton concedes, "But wolves are highly migratory. They could have wandered in from another state driven by impulse or strong enough memory."**

 **"Wolves have memories?" the beta asks.**

 **"Longer - term memories, yes. Associated with a primal drive." Deaton goes on to try to profile the animal attacks for the Sheriff, Scott only half paying attention as he processes his boss's words, recalling his own dream.**

"Mason!"

All eyes turn to Malia, particularly Mason. "Uh, yeah?"

"That's your name. Mason."

"... did you spend the past five minutes thinking about that?"

"... no, I was paying attention…"

Somewhere off in their corner, Apollo shakes his head. "Humans…" he mutters under his breath.

 **Scott walks through the hospital, to his mother's nurses' station. When she looks up, he raises a bag of chinese take away for her, earning a broad smile. "Is my beautiful, talented, and wonderful son actually bringing me dinner?"**

 **"Thought you wouldn't mind skipping the cafeteria tonight."**

 **"You are the most thoughtful, loving…" Scott's grin broadens only to fall with confusion at her next words, "- most conniving little con artist ever. You are so not getting the car tomorrow night."**

 **"Mom," he whines.**

 **"What? There's a curfew, no car. But I will take this. Love you." She disappears, her dinner tight withing her grasp. Scott mopes, "Love you too."**

 **He turns to leave, but pauses, sensing something. Following his instincts, he finds himself in the room of the bus driver. He only calls on the man's name, but once Mr Meyer's eyes land on Scott, shit hits the fan. His monitor alarms ring loudly as the man falls into a fit of some sort. Melissa rushes into the room, shouting at her son to leave. He does so, hurriedly, fear in his eyes.**

"See Stiles, that is the sort of food you should bring me at work," Noah quips from above.

Stiles looks at her father incredulously. "We just saw Scott give a guy a seizure and you're cared about what I feed you?"

The Sheriff shrugs casually. Melissa not-so-subtly leans over to the others and stage whispers, "Explains a lot doesn't it?" The comment earns her a few nods, particularly from Parrish, Scott, Derek and Lydia who know the Sheriff best.

Ignoring them, Stiles narrows her eyes at her father..."Bribery food?"

"Actual edible people food Stiles."

"Even if it's for a bribe?"

Noah sighs, glaring through narrowed eyes at his daughter. "Yes even if it's a bribe… not that I'd take it."

Stiles snorts, "Oh please. You have a heart condition, old man."

"I'm not old!"

"Settle down gramps."

Noah crosses his arms, huffing. Chris pats his shoulder, hiding an amused smile, though there's a twinge of sadness in his heart; he misses the way he used to banter likewise with Allison at times.

 **It's late afternoon outside the old Hale place. A police cruiser pulls up out front, a hesitant officer stepping out. The officer approaches the House slowly, only encouraged on by the goading of his partner over the comms.**

 **From a shattered second floor window, Derek peers out upon the stray officer, eyeing the canine in the backseat. Steel blue melts into his eyes, glowly softly in the shadows of his squallor. Back on the ground, the police dog picks up its barking once again, growling loudly, frothing at the mouth, a rabid look in its face. The creature claws at the vinyl and glass, ignoring the pleas of the scared officer. Within no time the officer retreats back inside his car, driving away with a haunted look in his eye. Inside the Hale manor, Derek appears satisfied - well he's not glowering at the very least.**

Liam and Mason gawk. "Dude you totally were a creeper," they say in unison, earning a glare from the older wolf. Catching it they both wince, ducking their heads like baby turtles.

The former alpha picks up a shift in Stiles. Turning to her, she's silently shaking her head, her lips pressed in a wide grin. Raising his brows, it doesn't take long for her to catch on that he's watching her. She takes in his curious expression. Rolling her eyes, she whispers, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually forgot what you not smiling looked like. You know back when you were a stone-cold brooding creeper."

Her mirth only grows when his green eyes narrow at her, though there's no heat in them.

 **Out of the trees, Scott gingerly emerges. Scanning the house, he senses the older wolf's presence, but is at loss for how he knows that. Steadying himself, he says, voice low but clear, "I know you can hear me. I need your help." It's quiet a few moments, and he almost thinks he was wrong, but then the front door creaks open. The young Hale exits in all his leather glory, pulling the door shut behind him as Scott quickly ascends the steps. "Okay," Scott begins, "I know I was part of you getting arrested and that we basically announced you being here to the hunters. I also don't know what happened to your sister…" he pauses a moment, maybe thinking Derek will fill him in, but the older werewolf simply stares him down. Sighing, Scott goes on, "But… I think I did something last night. I had a dream about - someone," he's careful not to mention Allison's name, unsure how Derek will react to him dating a hunter's daughter, "But someone else got hurt. And it turns out that part of the dream might have actually happened."**

 **"You think you attacked the driver?" Derek asks, though it sounds more like a statement.**

 **Scott's eyes widen with hope and maybe a little fear. "Did you see what I did last night?"**

 **"No."**

 **The wolf-pup pouts. "Can you at least tell me the truth? Am I gonna hurt someone?"**

 **"Yes."**

 **"Could I kill someone?"**

 **"Yes."**

 **"Am I gonna kill someone?"**

 **"Probably."**

"You know you could have eased him into it," Lydia says, "You know, instead of being outright and asshole-y about it." The others look at her strangely. Clearly she's been spending too much time with Stiles if she's using words like 'asshole-y'.

Without looking at her, Derek answers, "Scott's lucky I didn't tie him down and hit him over the head with a text on werewolf lore until it sunk into his thick skull that I was trying to help him."

"...uh… thanks…?" Scott remarks, looking at him disturbed. "Did you have a book on werewolf lore?"

"... No."

Malia looks up. "So you would have just tied him down? Kinky." She rolls her eyes at the simultaneous glares she gets from both werewolves.

 **On screen Derek takes in the dejected look on Scott's face. "Look, I can show you how to remember. I can show you how to control the shift, even on a full moon. But it's not gonna come for free."**

"Huh, guess you and Peter are related," Lydia snarks. Derek does his best to bite back a growl. Stiles taps her fingers under his, and he curls their hands tighter together.

 **"What do you want?" Scott asks, suspicious and hesitant.**

 **"You'll find out. But for now, I'm gonna give you what you want. Go back to the bus. Go inside. See it, feel it. Let your senses - your sight, smell, touch - let them remember for you."**

 **Scott snaps back, surprised, "That's it? Just - just go back?"**

 **"Do you want to know what happened?"**

 **"I just want to know if I hurt him."**

 **"No, you don't." Derek smirks a little, his voice patronising, "You want to know if you'll hurt her."**

 **The scene shifts again, it's nightfall. The jeep pulls up out back the school parking looking, just behind the bus departure zone. Scott exits, Stiles in pursuit. As they approach the fence, he notices his friend and raises a hand to bar her. "Hey, no, just me. Someone needs to keep watch."**

 **Stiles gawks. "How come I'm always the one keeping watch?"**

 **"Because there's only two of us."**

 **"Okay, why's it starting to feel like you're Batman and I'm Robin? I don't want to be Robin all the time.** "

Lydia snorts. "Only you, Stiles, would think this is an important conversation to have at a crime scene."

"Hey, have you not seen Kira's pants?"

"Hey!" the Kitsune exclaims.

Stiles looks at her. "What? I'm not dissing. Seriously, where'd you get your Avengers trousers?"

Lydia growls from her spot, "Stiles I swear to god-"

"Threat! I feel threatened!" Stiles points at Lydia accusingly. She's satisfied that the pack get the reference. Kira most of all, giggles into her hands, smiling at Stiles from her position in Scott's lap.

 **"Nobody's Batman and Robin any of the time," Scott replies, exasperatedly.**

 **Stiles pouts. "Not even some of the time?" she holds up to fingers an inch a part.**

 **"Just stay here-"**

 **"Oh, my God! Fine." Stomping back to the jeep, Stiles slides into the driver's seat, watching Scott effortlessly scale the fence that would have once had him puffing and panting. Scott creeps onto the bus, eyes searching through the shadows for the blood stains and claw marks. Recalling Derek's words, he closes his eyes as he passes through the seats, letting his senses reach out. His hands pass over the tears in the leather, his face turning over the spilt blood. Suddenly images rush at him. Just like his nightmare, only instead of Allison, it's the bus driver, being thrown off his feet, dragged by his ankles. A hulking beast stands over him, red eyes glaring at a wolfed out Scott. He's broken from the reverie by the familiar sound of Stiles' horn. Eyes flying open, he squints in the deputy's flashlight pouring the windows. Picking up his pace, he exits the bus, running down the tarmac, executing a perfect midair somersault, landing on the jeep's roof. "Go! Go! Go! Go!" he shouts to his friend, clambering in through the passenger side window. When they're a safe distance away, Stiles asks, "Did it work? Did you remember?"**

 **"Yeah, I was there last night. And the blood - a lot of it was mine."**

 **Stiles frowns, confused by the lack of horror and self-loathing on her best-friend's face. "So you did attack him?"**

 **"No," Scott shakes his head. "I saw glowing eyes in the bus, but they weren't mine. It was Derek."**

"But didn't you see that Derek had blue eyes?" Mason asks.

"Now you know my pain," Derek grunts. "He was a lovesick idiot and she was-"

"An annoying pain in your ass?" Stiles finishes smirking at him secretly.

The twenty four year old matches her grin. "Yup. A gigantic annoying pain in my ass."

Above them the Sheriff rolls his eyes, clearly his throat, though to the shape-shifters in the room it sounds oddly like he's saying, "Get a room."

 **"What about the driver?"**

 **"I think I was actually trying to protect him."**

 **Stiles frowns. "Wait, why would Derek help you remember that he attacked the driver?"**

"Huh, maybe you're smarter than I give you credit," Derek remarks, softly.

 **"That's what I don't get," Scott sighs.**

 **After a moment, contemplating it, Stiles remarks, "It's got to be a pack thing."**

 **"What do you mean?"**

 **"Like an initiation. You do the kill together."**

"I take it back," Derek deadpans.

"I'm not wrong… entirely."

 **"Because ripping someone's throat out is a real bonding experience?" Scott gawks horrified.**

 **"Yeah, but you didn't do it, which means you're not a killer. And it also means that -"**

 **"I can go out with Allison," the young werewolf perk up, looking at the horizon as if seeing a bright future ahead of him.**

 **Stiles glares at him. "I was gonna say it means you won't kill me."**

 **"Oh, yeah," Scott looks at her, a little dazed. "That too."**

"... Sorry?" Scott says, again, looking at his best friend (he thinks she's still his best friend. At least he knows she is his, but he's not sure if he's still Stiles' best friend).

Stiles shrugs. "Derek got it right. You were a lovesick idiot. Good luck, Kira."

"Ooo, burn -ow! Lydia stop hitting me!"

 **The scene opens up to Allison's room. Lydia's going through her closet, vetoing just about every item of clothing. "Allison, respect for your taste is, uh, dwindling by the second," she says. Finally she settles on something that she considers for more than half a second. Pulling the shirt off the rack, Lydia spins to show it to Allison. "This."**

 **Rolling her eyes, the dark-haired beauty pushes up from her bed, taking it in hand, holding it against herself in front of the mirror.**

 **While she and Lydia are busy examining the outfit, Chris enters the room silently. Catching his reflection, Allison turns, looking at him as if he's grown a second head. "Dad, hello?"**

 **Chris pauses, a look of realisation on his face. "Right. I'm sorry. I completely forgot to knock."**

 **Eyeing the older man, Lydia bounces onto the bed, holding her head up seductively. "Hi, Mr. Argent."**

"Lydia you have no shame," Stiles teases.

"Like you're one to talk, Stilinski."

"Isaac," both girls say.

"Shut up?"

 **"Dad, do you need something?" Allison asks, clearly annoyed by his intrusion.**

 **"I wanted to tell you that you'll be staying in tonight."**

 **"What? I'm going out with my friends tonight."**

 **"Not when some animal out there is attacking people." Allison tries to stutter her excuses, but her father cuts her short, "It's out of my hands. There's a curfew. No one's allowed out past 9:30 P.M." She looks ready to argue, so he adds with a smile, "Hey, no more arguing." He leaves straight after. Lydia crawls off the bed, resting her chin on her new friend's shoulder. "Someone's daddy's little girl," she remarks.**

 **"Sometimes. But not tonight." Setting down the outfit she'd wanted to wear, Allison grabs a beanie, tucking her long locks underneath. With a determined look upon her face, she heads for the window, pulling it up and crawling out.**

 **Shocked, Lydia leans out the window and hisses, "What are you doing?"**

 **The response she gets is not one she expects. The brunette executes a perfect acrobatic display, landing squarely on two feet on her driveway. "Eight years gymnastics," she grins back, absolutely smug. "Are you coming?"**

 **"I'll take the stairs."**

Argent sighs. "There was never any stopping her," he whispers.

Next to him, the Sheriff nudges him, throwing him a supportive smile. "She was smart, knew how to take care of herself. You raised her well."

They turn their attention back to where the scene has shifted again, to the local bowling alley. The pack watch on as Scott makes an absolute embarrassment of himself bowling.

"Man, if this is you bowling, I wonder how bad you were at Lacrosse," Mason asks, trying not to laugh at the younger Scott's humiliating strike out.

Melissa chuckles. "Oh I have videos from when Stiles and Scott used to train together as juniors."

"Mom, no!" Scott gasps, ignoring Stiles' laughter.

 **Allison leans over Scott's shoulder. "You're thinking too much."**

 **The boy sighs, shaking his head. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm ruining this."**

 **"No, no, not at all, but I wouldn't mind shutting them up, so just clear your head and think about something else."**

 **"Like what?"**

 **"Anything. Think about me." She begins to back away as Scott steps up to take his cue. Just as he's about to move, Allison quickly ducks back to him and whispers in his ear, "Naked."**

 **That sends a thrill through him, her soft giggles echoing in his head as she takes a seat. Suddenly, Scott's vision shifts, the lanes appearing closer, more focussed. He shoots… and scores. Allison gasps excitedly clapping her hands, while the other three stare at the fallen pins in disbelief.**

 **Lydia leans across to the brunette. "What did you say to him?"**

 **Allison smiles cheekily as Scott comes to take a seat by her side, his arm instinctively wrapping around her shoulders. She leans into him, saying, "I just gave him something to think about."**

Chris awkwardly coughs. "Is it really necessary we see this?"

Athena smiles understanding his discomfort. "Unfortunately yes. Even the most mundane of things effect each and every one of you in magnified ways. Allison and Scott's relationship was pivotal in everything that unfolded thereafter."

A terse silence sweeps through the cavern. "Yeah, we know," Lydia says after a few moments. "She was important to all of us.

Sensing her grief, Parrish reaches forward to squeeze her hand. She returns the kind gesture, a dimpled smile lighting up her saddened face.

Hoping to lift everyone's spirits, Apollo chuckles loudly, teasing, "This is barely flirtation. You've not seen anything yet. Remember what I said about ratings."

At that the pack blanch.

Sheriff groans. "Oh god, I do not need to see Stiles like that ever again."

"Me? What about you old man. You think I want to see you doing the nasty with Lydia's mom?"

Noshiko claps her hands together. "Okay, I think we should keep going with this," she gestures towards the frozen screen. Everyone silence, switching their attention back.

 **A very familiar camaro parks at a deserted gas station. Out steps Derek Hale. The twenty two year old goes about his business, quietly, filling up his tank. Out of nowhere, three large SUVs pull up, crowding him in. Several hunters step out, rifles at hand. Remaining calm, Derek watches them carefully, taking out the pipe when his tank is full. He notices a familiar scent. Argent. Chris steps up, a friendly smile on his face. Derek turns to face him.**

 **Glancing at the car, Chris comments, "Nice ride. Black cars, though. Very hard to keep clean. I would definitely suggest a little more maintenance." Grabbing a window wiper and some soapy water, Chris sets about washing the dash. "If you have something this nice, you want to take care of it, right?" Derek continues to watch him, stony faced. "Personally, I'm very protective of the things I love," Chris continues, "But that's something I learned from my family. And you don't have much of that these days. Do you?" Derek's hands curl into tight fists at his side. It's evident on his face he's fighting not to rip out the hunter's throat.**

"Derek-"

"It's fine," the werewolf cuts off the hunters, voice firm but tense.

Sighing, Chris pushes, "Derek, really I-"

"Chris," the Argent pauses, watching Derek carefully as the younger man addresses him. He notes how tense his shoulders are, how Stiles runs circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. When Derek faces him, Chris is taken aback. Here is not a trace of anger or despair on the young man's face… only a sort of peace. A soft smile tugs at Derek's lips. "I mean it. It's fine. It was all in the past. We're not enemies anymore." Chris recalls using similar words after Derek had been under the Nogitsune's influence. They share a look of understanding, nodding. Everyone releases the breath they'd been holding.

 **Chris finishes cleaning Derek's windshield. " There we go," he says. "You can actually look through your windshield now. See how that makes everything so much clearer?" He puts away the cleaning equipment and turns to leave, gesturing to the others to follow. He's stopped by Derek's voice calling him out, goading him: "You forgot to check the oil."**

 **Smirking, Chris turns to one of his hunters. "Check the man's oil."**

 **The hunter smirks, stepping up. He raises the butt of his gun into Derek's window, glass shattering everywhere. "Looks good to me."**

 **"Drive safely," Chris nods at Derek, who simply stands there watching them depart.**

Isaac leans over to Malia. "You know if that was the jeep, Stiles would have castrated him by now."

Malia nods vigorously, her face pinched in horror at the idea of anything happening to Stiles' beloved jeep. She knows how much it means to her friend, and would be lying if she said she wouldn't have a hand in trying to kill whoever would hurt the jeep; Parrish had no idea what's going on, so she's letting him slide… for now.

Everyone settles in watching the younger teens bowling once again, Jackson's cloud of angst not amiss by any of the viewers. There's a few chuckles at Lydia's comment about sucking, though it's quickly silenced by terse glares from the queen bee herself and Scott who naturally has always felt protective of her and Stiles viewing them as sisters more than anything.

 **"Nice shot, man," Scott says approaching Jackson by the pinball machine. The blonde jock ignores him, so Scott continues, "Listen, I know we both didn't want to be here. But the thing is, we don't have to hate each other."**

 **Jackson shakes his head, scoffing. "I don't hate you-"**

"Debatable," Isaac scoffs.

 **"- I just don't believe you. You know, you got everyone thinking everything's fine and normal about you, but I know something's off. You cheated tonight."**

 **Scott pouts bemused. "How do you cheat in bowling?"**

 **"I don't know, but you did. And I don't know if it's steroids or something weirder. I'm guessing something weirder since it's pretty obvious that you're a freak. So don't think for a second I've given up on finding out what your little secret is."**

 **"I don't have any secrets," Scott defends, though it's clear he's lying through his teeth.**

 **Jackson smirks, "Yeah, you do. And here's the other thing. I don't know why, but I think whatever it is you're hiding, you don't want her to find out about it, either," he nods in Allison's direction, Scott following his gaze.**

"Jackson was an ass, but he wasn't dumb, that's for sure," Isaac admits.

 **The scene changes to the hospital. Derek moves silently, dodging out of the nurses' view, into a dark room. Pulling back the screen, he comes to a standstill at the bedside of Mr Meyers. "Open your eyes," he demands, voice soft. "Open your eyes. Look at me."**

 **Beneath his lids, the bus driver's eyes shift. Slowly they blink open with confusion. Once his pupils adjust to the dim lighting, they fall on the werewolf. "What do you remember?" Derek prompts.**

 **Meyer's parts his dry lips, only the sound of gravelling air escaping at first. But then he voice begins to squeak, finding it's sound. "Hale," he rasps.**

 **Derek's eyes widen. "How do you know my name?" he demands.**

 **"I'm sorry," the man begins to shake.**

 **"How do you know me?" Derek asks again, expression becoming a little more frantic, fearful.**

 **All the bus driver can say is, "I'm sorry." The monitors start beeping loudly, alarms going off at a deafening frequency. Confused, Derek backs out of the room quickly before Melissa and some other nurses rush in to begin stabilising the man.**

Kira frowns, "How did the man know who you were?"

Derek nods towards the screen. "You guys will learn eventually."

"I'm surprised he recognised you," Scott says. "He probably hadn't seen you since after the Fire, right?"

Derek nods. Stiles frowns. "I recognised him," she says.

Lydia waves her off, "Yeah but you're different."

"How?"

"Weird, for one," Issac offers. Stiles glares, while Derek and Scott hide the grins.

Mason points between Isaac and Stiles, saying, "I thought you guys would be closer, you know like nicer to each other. Especially with the way you greeted each other."

Stiles and Isaac share a look and shrug. "We're not close per say-" Stiles begins.

"Actually we used to piss each other off all the time," Isaac adds.

Liam frowns, "And yet you get to be her favourite puppy." He pouts adorably, causing all the girls sans Malia and the older women to coo.

Stiles rolls her eyes. Oh my go- Liam I was joking."

"So I'm not your favourite?" Isaac asks, faux scandalised.

"I have no favourites," Stiles deadpans. In her corner, Malia coughs loudly as if to announce "HELLO. I'M RIGHT HERE."

Lydia shakes her long scarlet locks. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she smirks. "Oh please, we all know who Stiles' puppy is. D-"

"Let's keep rolling."

If Derek's cheeks turn pink at the pointed looks he receives from Lydia, Braeden and the Sheriff ('Oh god the SHERIFF knows') then nobody says a word.

 **Scott walks Allison up to her front door. The young couple pause on the step, the porch lights flooding.**

 **"So, uh, do you think we could hang out again soon?" Scott asks nervously.**

 **Allison grins broadly. "Definitely. But I have to admit something," she pauses and Scott's smile falls a little, confused. "Um, I'm not big on group dates. So next time, just the two of us."**

 **Scott grins his adorable puppy grin. "I could totally handle more of that."**

 **"Great," Allison whispers leaning in for a goodnight kiss. It's soft and sweet. She pulls away and turns for her door, but Scott pulls her back into another two kisses, each more passionate but equally as gentle as the last.**

 **Pulling away with lidded eyes, Allison whispers, "And I could handle more of that." With one last smile, she silently bids Scott heads inside.**

 **Scott turns to leave with a wide smile, his face the portrait of first love.**

The entire time, Scott had been watching he'd kept an eye on Kira. He sensed the shift in her, the subtle hints of jealousy, but there was no heat to it, not hate, no anger. There' was only sadness. And happiness. He'd caught her smiling genuinely at the sight of his and Allison's sweet smiles towards one another.

She caught him looking at her, and turning ever so slightly in his lap, pecks him on the cheek. "You two were so cute," she whispers. A pained smile makes its way onto his face. Her smile falls a little notices this shift in his mood. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I understand."

God, he loves this girl. His wonderful, sweet, shy Kitsune. Nuzzling her neck, Scott leans in and whispers, "Coup de Foudre." Her smile magnifies as he's never seen before on her. "I love you too," she whispers.

 **Melissa shuffles through her dark house, tiredly dragging her feet. She's already changed into her pajamas, but stops outside her son's room to wish him goodnight. "Hey, Scott," she calls out, "I'm gonna go to - sleep." She pauses, noticing he's not in the room. Suddenly the window lifts open and a dark figure stumbles through onto the bed. Grabbing her baseball bat, Melissa confronts the intruder, bat raised - only to realise it's Stiles. They both flail, screaming for a moment, Stiles scrambling away from her mother-figure on Scott's bed. "Seriously," Melissa groans, pissed. "Stiles, what the hell are you doing here?"**

"We should probably have a betting pool for Stiles breaking and entering too," Isaac teases.

"Oh yeah, because none of you have ever broken in anywhere before."

 **"What am I doing?" Stiles looks at the older woman as if she's gone batshit crazy. "God, do either of you even play baseball?" she points at the bat. Melissa looks at it, just as Scott enters the room behind her. He looks between both of them confused, eyes pinching in confusion at the sight of the bat.**

 **Looking at her son, Melissa asks - more like begs - "Can you please tell your friend to use the front door?" "But we lock the front door. She wouldn't be able to get in," Scott answers as if it's so obvious.**

"It's like you guys share a brain," Braeden quips, earning glares from Stiles and Scott.

"Now you know my pain," Derek, Melissa and Noah say at the exact same time.

"I resent that," Stiles grumbles.

 **"Exactly," Melissa presses.**

"I thought you loved me, Mel."

"Only when you're not giving me a heart attack, Stiles."

 **"And, by the way, do either of you care that there's a police - enforced curfew?"**

 **Scott and Stiles look at one another. "No," they admit.**

 **"No," Melissa breathes. Dropping the bat, she raises her hands in defeat, "All right then. Well, you know what? That's about enough parenting for me for one night, so good night." She leaves pressing a kiss to both of their cheeks, and a maternal smile that says, 'I'm pissed but still love you.' Story of their lives.**

 **When she's out of hearing range, Scott turns to Stiles. "What?"**

 **"My dad left for the hospital 15 minutes ago. It's the bus driver. They said he succumbed to his wounds."**

 **"Succumbed?"**

 **"Scott," Stiles sighs. "He's dead."**

 **Anger seeps into Scott's eyes, turning them gold.**

 **The scene quickly turns to that of the Hale House. Scott storm through the front door shouting for Derek. "I know you're here! I know what you did!"**

 **"I didn't do anything," Derek's voice echoes ominously from the shadows.**

 **"You killed him!"**

 **"He died."**

 **"Like your sister died?"**

 **"I'm sorry, bro," Scott apologises.**

 **Derek pats him in the back, silently dismissing the young Alpha.**

 **"My sister was missing. I came here looking for her," Derek answers, frustration dripping into his voice.**

 **Scott moves up the staircase carefully. "You found her," he spits, accusation on his lips.**

 **"I found her in pieces, being used as bait to catch me!"**

 **"I think you killed them both. I'm gonna tell everyone, starting with the sheriff."**

 **Out of the shadows, Derek appears, hurtling Scott's smaller body down the stairs. He leaps the staircase, landing before Scott. They tussle, briefly, before Scott throws him through a wall. Pushing himself up, dusting off the debris from his leather jacket, Derek comments, "That was cute." He peels off his jacket, laying it to the side, taking slow steady steps towards Scott. A frosted window obscures his face, only the sound of his shifting muscles and bone to be heard. The werewolf emerges the other side, face shifted, releasing a deafening roar as his eyes light up electric blue.**

Ooos and gasps sound about the cavern, as well as an unsettling feeling that they're all going to end up watching worse. Derek and Scott somehow watch on with a little amusement while Stiles and Lydia rolls their eyes. Malia is way too enthusiastic with her cheering.

Derek's worried about the way Melissa's glaring at the screen. Clearing his throat, he gains her attention, shooting her an apologetic look. She looks at him hard, before rolling her eyes, biting down a smile. There's something about it that reminds him of the way his mother would chastise him when he would get into a wolfed out tussle with Peter or his cousins.

 **Scott jumps up on top of an old burnt out air conditioner. Just as he motions to lunge, Derek strikes out across the younger man, his claws dragging painfully across Scott's stomach. Scott stumbles down from his perch, landing on his knees as he hugs himself, wishing the pain away. Derek's eyes lose their glow. Turning away, his back hunches over as he shifts back to his human form. He turns slowly upon hearing Scott's frantic pants; the younger man is holding himself up by the tattered sofa, glaring at Derek through his pain.**

 **"I didn't kill him. Neither of us did," Derek tells Scott. "It's not your fault, and it's not mine."**

 **"This? This is all your fault!" Scott shouts. "You ruined my life!"**

 **"No, I didn't."**

 **"You're the one who bit me," he accuses.**

 **"No, I'm not," Derek finishes solemnly.**

 **Scott's eyes widen. "What?"**

 **"I'm not the one that bit you."**

 **Realisation overwhelms Scott who collapses back against the sofa. "There's another," he says.**

 **Derek nods. "It's called an Alpha. It's the most dangerous of our kind. You and I, we're betas." He pauses, allowing the information to sink in for Scott. "This thing is more powerful, more animal than either of us. My sister came here looking for him. Now I'm trying to find him," Derek pauses. Crouching before Scott, forcing the younger man to meet his gaze, he admits, "But I don't think I can do it without you."**

 **"Why me?" Scott asks, almost whining.**

 **"Because he's the one that bit you. You're part of his pack. It's you, Scott. You're the one he wants."**

 **A black screen plunges them all in darkness, briefly.**

Mason whistles at the dramatic ending. "Guess things get easier between you three, now right?" he asks, though something in him tells him that it's too much to hope for.

Stiles and Isaac snort, amused.


	5. Chapter 5

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Welcome back lovsly readers. So here we have Magic Bullet. Ibmust forewarn that the chapter for the next episode hasn't been started yet, so might be a few weeks before the story gsts updated but I will do my best between Uni and work and essays.**

 **Reviews:**

 **J.D : Hi! There are another two actresses J had lined up for my head-canon of female Stiles but forgot to mention. They are Candice King nee Accola who plays Caroline Forbes on the Vampire Diaries. I feel like she's also an kbvious choice because her character is very similar to Stiles. Both are children of Sheriff's and overly protective of said parents, botb are unerringly loyal, both are a little neurotic, with OCD ticks and tendencies to babble and both can have a vicious streak if they out their mind to it. Not to mention the way Caroline gets into Klaus' heart and her easy banter with Stefan emulates the relationship I want to develop Stiles and Derek into at season 5 as we watch back over the show. The other actress is Emilia Clarke... I know it may be hard to imagine but honestly if you've ever seen Me Before You, then you'd get the picture. Or even just Emilia Clarke as she is. Plus she holds her ground over tall, broody and rugged man e.g. Khal Drogo and Jon Snow, while playing Daenerys. If you're curious about her american accent, just watch Terminator Genisys in which she plays the badass incarnation of Sarah Connor. Emilia is more my head-canon for another female Stiles I'm working on which will be an MCU crossover.**

 **Guest: Thank u! I'm finding it a littld harder to slip in deviations given that I'm not really aiming to alter too much from the show; as you've said it all comes down to how I develop the relationships between the characters. From this chapter we'll truly gst to see just how far a leao Stiles and Derek must make and how much that surprises even them.**

 **Now onto the story.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters. They are the property of Jeff Davis and MTV.**

* * *

 **The screen lights up again, inside a car. The radio's playing, tuned into the local news station, reporting the latest on the string of local animal attacks. The shot pans up to a blonde woman in her late twenties, early thirties at best.**

Growls, hisses and cursed are muttered under the breaths of those in the room. All save for Noshiko and Mason, who appear clueless as to who this woman is, and Isaac who simply glares at the screen, recalling how Allison had once confided in him about his nightmares as well as the memories he'd had of Derek tossing and turning in the room below his, muttering Kate's name with fear and hatred (and sometimes even remorseful longing - Isaac never told Derek he'd heard these, so certain Derek never realised he'd spoken out amidst his nightmares). Mason is the only one to raise his hand like a six year old in class. "Um, who's that?"

"My sister," Chris bites out.

"Also known as psychotic hell-bitch or devil-spawn. Take your pick," Stiles quips, though there's no humor in her voice. Her fingers curl around Derek's arm and subconsciously she moves into his side more.

Mason looks at her with confusion. "Thank you?" he says.

Parrish's brows furrow. "Yeah even I'm still a little unclear on the whole, Kate thing. And I was La Iglesia."

"Ditto," Liam agrees.

 **Something lands on Kate's car, causing her to swerve. She cursed, trying to reign in control over her vehicle as large clawed hands break through the window and roof for her. Scrambling for her gun in the passenger's seat, she quickly locks and loads, empty four bullets through the roof. The car lurches as the weight of the Alpha leaves the vehicle. Hopping out of her car, Kate rushes to her boot. Going through her duffle, she grabs a rifle and small wooden box. Lifting the lid of the box, she reveals an array of specially designed bullets, all bearing the fleur de lis. Grabbing a bullet, she loads the rifle and rounds her car, "Come on!" she shouts, goading the Alpha out of hiding. "Come on!"**

 **The scene shifts inside the Argent home. Allison leaves her room, coming to stand behind the bannister overlooking their atrium. Her dad's throwing on a jacket, ready to leave. "What's going on?"**

 **"Your aunt Kate just texted. I'm heading out to pick her out."**

 **"But it's 2:00 in the morning. Is everything okay?"**

 **"Yeah, yeah. She's just having a little car trouble."**

 **Judging by his expression, she doesn't believe that it's just a 'little car trouble'. "Not serious, is it?" she asks.**

 **"No, just a flat tire. Go - go back to bed, sweetheart."**

 **Back in the warehouse district, Kate is scanning the rooftops for sign of the Alpha. She spots movement. Two figures. The alpha and a beta.**

 **On the roof, Derek lunges for the Alpha. He can feel the creature so close, within his grasp. And then suddenly he's falling. It's only after he tumbles to the gravel, does he become aware of the pain in his shoulder.**

 **Down on the ground, Chris' SUV pulls up alongside Kate's trashed car. "Get in," he demands, getting out himself to grab her bags.**

 **Kate smirks. "Not even "hello," "nice to see you"?"**

 **"All I've got at the moment is "please put the assault rifle away before someone notices.""**

 **"That's the brother I love." Just as Chris brushes past her, she grabs him. "Chris, there were two of 'em."**

 **"The Alpha?"**

 **"I don't know, but one of them tried to kill me -"**

 **"One of them is gonna lead us to the other. He can't do that if he's dead," he talks to her as his talking to a toddler.**

 **"Well," she huffs, though looks more amused than irritated, "I can't help kill either of them if one of them kills me first."**

"Wouldn't that have been tragic," Stiles mutters. Lydia and Scott snort in agreement.

" **How long will it take?" Chris asks, nodding to the gun.**

 **"Give him 48 hours - If that." As they leave, the screen pans out to reveal a terrified Scott, hiding.**

"What were you doing out there?" Kira asks.

"I heard the Alpha howling."

 **Back at the Argent home, Allison enters Kate's room where the older woman is unpacking. Seeing her niece, Kate turns to her with wide open arms. "I don't see you for a year, and you turn into a fricken runway model?" she exclaims excitedly hugging her niece. "Look at you! Oh! Hate you."**

 **"I haven't even showered yet," Allison says shyly.**

 **"Sweetie, you're a knockout. In fact, I hope you have the boys knocking each other's teeth out for your attention."**

 **"I kind of have one."**

 **"You kind of have one? Well, you should kind of have a million."**

 **Shaking her head, trying not to laugh out loud, Allison moves around Kate. "Need some help unpacking?" She reaches for the duffel that carried Kate's firearms. "No, not that one!" Kate's hand wraps around Allison's firmly, scaring the younger girl. Seeing her shock, she tries to brush it off, chuckling as she let's Allison go. "Oh. See? You turn out beautiful, and I end up with this kung fu death grip. Sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to be so rough."**

 **"No worries," Allison says, hiding her shock. She begins to leave, but stops asking, "Hey, is everything okay with your car?"**

 **"Uh, yeah. I just needed a jumpstart, that's all."**

 **"A jumpstart?" the brunette repeats, incredulously, though it goes amiss to Kate.**

Chris growls - actually growls. He knew Kate had been dropping hints to Allison, that she hadn't just ambushed her with their family's legacy. He'd had thought it hadn't started that early though. No he had made it exceptionally clear to his sister, that he'd told Allison about the flat tire. Melissa rubs his arm, confused. Smiling at her attempt to comfort him, he shakes his head, brushing off her concern.

 **Stiles and Scott sit behind one another in class. Stiles leans forward. "So if Derek isn't the Alpha, if he's not the one who bit you, then who did?"**

 **"I don't know," Scott whispers.**

 **Stiles nods, pursing her lips. She leans away but only for a moment before returning with, "Did the Alpha kill the bus driver?"**

 **"I don't know."**

 **"Does Allison's dad know about the Alpha?"**

 **"I don't know! Jeez," Scott hisses, exasperated, ignoring the looks they receive from those around them.**

 **The teacher comes around at that moment, returning their latest test scores. Happy with her A+, Stiles leans over her friend's shoulder to glimpse his test score. She winces when she sees it. "Dude, you need to study more." Scott quickly scrambles to hide the page, glaring at her. "That was a joke," Stiles says, humor leaving her voice. "Scott, it's one test. You're gonna make it up. Do you want help studying?"**

 **No. I'm studying with Allison after school today."**

 **She claps his shoulders, proud grin threatening to split her face in two. "That's my boy!"**

 **"We're just studying," Scott tries to placate her.**

 **"Uh, no, you're not," Stiles shakes her head vehemently.**

 **Scott looks at her. "No, I'm not?"**

 **"Not if I'm forced to live vicariously through you. If you go to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity, I swear to God I'll have you de - balled."**

Lydia groans. "Oh my god, Stiles if it weren't for rack and your hips I'd swear you wear a guy."

"What about my va-" the rest of the brunette's words a silenced by Scott and Derek's meaty palms slapping over her mouth.

"Thank you boys," the Sheriff tilts an invisible hat to them.

 **"Okay," Scott gestures to her to lower her voice, "Just - Stop with the questions."**

 **"Done," Stiles nods vehemently. "No more questions," she drawls, leaning back. Shaking his head amused Scott turns around in his seat to face the front while Stiles continues, "No more talk about the Alpha or Derek." She blinks twice. "Especially Derek - who still scares me."**

Parrish leans over to Braeden, "I really can't imagine it."

"Being afraid of evolved werewolf Derek?"

"Stiles being afraid of Derek," the hellhound clarifies.

 **In the empty hallways, Derek stumbles. He catches sight of Jackson at his locker, dragging himself up to the teenager. Jackson double takes at the sight of Derek, pale and clammy, looking like a walking corpse. "Where's. Scott. McCall?" Derek manages to wheeze and growl softly with each word.**

 **"Why should I tell you?" Jackson quirks his pretty brows.**

 **"Because I asked you politely," the werewolf huffs. "And I only do that once."**

 **"Hmm," Jackson seems to contemplate a moment before saying, "Okay, tough guy. You know, how about I help you find him if you tell me what you're selling him? What is it? Is it, uh, Dianabol? Hmm? HGH?"**

 **"Steroids," Derek looks at the jock incredulously. Almost like he's torn between laughing and ripping off his head.**

 **"No, girl scout cookies. What the hell do you think I'm talking about? Oh, and, uh, by the way, whatever it is you're out selling, I'd probably stop sampling the merchandise. You look wrecked."**

"You know, I just realise why Stiles and Jackson hate each other," Isaac muses. "They have the exact same sense of humour."

"More like sense of sarcasm," Lydia notes.

Stiles smiles, "Must be why you looove me so much," she teases, wagging her eyebrows at Lydia suggestively. The red head bites down her chuckle, but her amused glint is ever present.

 **Derek comments about finding Scott himself. He tries to move past Jackson, but the kid grabs his arm. Head drowning under the influence of wolfsbane, Derek's defence instincts take over. Claws out, he twists Jackson's arm behind his back, pushing the boy up against his locker. One hand grips the back of Jackson's neck. Derek struggles to control the urge to maim, to kill. Growling, he retreats quickly, leaving a confused Jackson with a claw scratch on the back of his neck.**

 **Derek stumbles down different hallways, stretching out his senses. He picks up different conversations until he hears Scott's familiar voice, but it's gravelly - through a phone.**

 **Allison's phone. She hangs up after agreeing to meet Scott back at her place after lacrosse practice.**

 **Lydia who'd been trying to overhear, remarks, "Scott's coming over? Tonight?"**

 **"We're just studying together," Allison comments, knowing exactly where her friends' train of thought is going.**

 **Lydia scoffs, "Just studying never ends with just studying. It's like - Getting into a hot tub - Somebody eventually cops a feel."**

Chris and Melissa cough awkwardly, glancing at one another and then away.

 **"Well, so what are you saying?" the brunette asks.**

 **"I'm just saying, you know, make sure he covers up." Allison still looks confused. Lydia rolls her eyes, "Hello, snow white! Do it with him with a condom."**

"I don't need to hear this," Chris shakes his head, while Scott blushes furiously - shockingly to his girlfriend's amusement.

 **Allison gasps, scandalised. "Are you kidding? After one date?"**

Chris smiles. "That's my girl," he nods.

Stiles leans to Scott. "Isn't this when she stole the cond-"

"Shhhh."

 **"Don't be a total prude. Give him a little taste."**

 **Allison holds Lydia back. "Well, I - I mean, how much is "a little taste"?"**

Chris groans.

 **"Oh, God. You really like him, don't you?" Lydia appears gobsmacked. Because honestly, McCall was a nobody till this year. Still is technically a nobody.**

 **"Well - He's just different. When I first moved here, I had a plan - no boyfriends till college. I just move too much. But - Then I met him, and - He was different. I - I don't know. Can't explain it."**

 **"I can. It's your brain flooding with phenylethylamine."**

 **Allison frowns, confused. "What?"**

The late huntress' sentiment is shared by most everyone else, spare Melissa, Kira, Mason and Stiles who actually have a working understanding of Chemistry (Stiles has been doing unsurprisingly better since Harris fell sick). Scott takes another minute to catch on - he's really been studying.

 **Lydia loops her hands through Allison's and proceeds to give her advice. Right at that moment though, the bell rings, and the scene cuts back to Derek, wincing with his hands over his ears, shaking with pain. He looks for the exit and picks himself up, clambering towards the doors before the hallways become flooded with students.**

 **In the parking lot, Stiles is reversing her precious jeep and pulling it into the line up to leave, when suddenly a dark figure collapses right in front of her. "Oh, my God," she gasps, breaking at the last moment, before she could hit him.**

 **From his spot by the bike racks, Scott hears the loud beeping of car horns and annoyed cusses of his fellow students. Turning his head, he gawks at the road block that is Derek Hale. "Oh, no no - no - no, not here!" he whines, hurrying towards the older werewolf.**

 **"You've gotta be kidding me," Stiles hits her steering wheel. "This guy's everywhere -" she scrambles out of her jeep, at the sight of Scott approaching.**

 **"What are you doing here?" Scott hisses at Derek.**

 **"I was shot."**

 **Stiles arrives, grimacing at Derek. "He's not looking so good, dude."**

 **Scott spots the fresh blood still oozing from the hole in Derek's jacket. "Why aren't you healing?"**

 **"I can't. It was - it was a different kind of bullet."**

 **"A silver bullet?" Stiles asks.**

 **"No, you idiot."**

"Trying to be helpful."

"No you weren't."

"You're an asshole."

"And you're annoying spaz."

"For the love of god, both of you shut up! I'm trying to watch the movie," Malia hisses at Derek and Stiles.

 **Scott waves his hands breaking up the glaring match. "Wait, wait. That's what she meant when she said you had 48 hours."**

 **Stiles and Derek's attention snaps to him. "What? Who - who said 48 hours?" Derek demands through heavy breaths.**

 **"The one who shot you," Scott answers, completely ignoring Stiles hissing with indignation at not being clued in on this piece of information. "I didn't think it was important?" the beta answers her.**

 **"Derek is a werewolf. You are a werewolf. Derek was shot by a hunter. Do you see where I am going with this?" she whisper-shouts at him. Before he can answer, the older werewolf growls softly, like a pained animal… which he is.**

 **The teenagers return their attention to him, only to scramble to cover him more as his eyes start bleeding their icy blue. Beneath curled lips, his fangs glean. "What are you doing?" Scott gasps, "Stop that!"**

 **"I'm trying to tell you, I can't!" Derek answers, eyes flashing between their normal minty shade to beta blue and back.**

 **"Derek, get up!" Scott orders - begs - throwing an arm around the older werewolf, hoisting him to his feet. "Help me to put him in your car," he tells a less than happy Stiles. She pouts but doesn't argue with her best friend. They stumble back to her jeep, some of the onwatching crowd actually applauding them for finally getting out of the way.**

 **Once Derek's buckled in shotgun, he turns to Scott through the window. "I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used," he tells the younger boy.**

 **"How the hell am I supposed to do that?"**

 **"'Cause she's an Argent. She's with them."**

 **Scott hesitates. "Why should I help you?"**

 **"Because you need me," Derek states**.

"Really guys?" Parrish asks. "He's dying-"

"We didn't know it at the time," Stiles defends, weakly.

"Yeah but, you know he isn't the Alpha, you know he didn't kill anyone," Mason begins slowly.

Stiles and Scott share a look, before glancing at Derek who's looking at them arms crossed, expression torn between smug and growly - Stiles believes he's patented it.

"You didn't trust Scott," Stiles directs at Liam. "And Scott wasn't being creepy and mysterious and threatening you with bodily harm-"

"Actually Derek never threatened to hurt me… just that he'd kill me," Scott pipes up much to the older werewolf's chagrin. Stiles nods enthusiastically.

"Yup, Derek was still a creepy, scary fucker… no offence," she adds that last bit after he turns his glare on her.

"Still is," Lydia and Malia mutter under their breaths, while Isaac only smirks knowingly.

Everyone else nods, while Parrish mutters, "Fair enough," under his breath, earning a look of betrayal from the werewolf who was slowly become his best friend. "Like we said before, it's hard for some of us to imagine it sometimes. When we met you guys, you were already a well-functioning pack."

At this Stiles, Scott, Malia and Liam all look pointedly away from each other and everyone else.

Lydia purses her lips, glancing between her friends and Kira who looks as sullen as the rest but just as confused as her; the kitsune shakes her head at the banshee's questioning look, while Derek and the parents stay perfectly - awkwardly - silent. The red head crosses her arms. "Okay, seriously, what the hell happened? I haven't been in a walking coma for that long."

"It's nothing," Stiles tries to brush it off, preferring to put off having to hash out all the ugly. She knows that she and Scott will have to talk, she knows that she owes him an apology as much as she's stubborn enough to not want to give it. But she's still afraid; despite how much effort he's put in to repairing their friendship, she's still afraid that she'll only make it worse; why break something that's already broken? No, Stiles wants to enjoy this awkward peace-reconciliation they've made… even if it's only temporary.

'If,' she hears a woman's voice say in her head. Her attention whips around to the deities, noticing the way Athena is watching her with apt attention. Stiles holds the goddesses gaze a moment longer, before replying silently, 'If.'

While she'd been thinking this, Isaac had raised his hand - like the six year old he is - "Umm, actually I'd like to know too."

"And you'll find out," Noshiko interrupts. "But only if you're patient and attentive," she then nods back to her old friends, silently asking they continue the flashbacks.

 **Scott huffs, promising he'll try to find the bullet. He looks across the poisoned werewolf to his best friend who'd just stumbled into her seat. "Get him out of here," he begs her.**

 **Stiles shoots him a weak glare, groaning, "I hate you for this so much."**

Next to her Derek snorts. Stiles frowns, brows drawing together. "What?"

Without taking his eyes off the screen, he tells her, "Oh yeah, you really wanted to help me."

"Shut up," she elbows him. "Be glad I didn't leave you to die on the side of the road."

"Like you could," Scott, Derek and Isaac answer all at once.

Stiles splutters. Indignantly crossing her arms, she pouts at them, "I could have. I'm not that weak."

They smirk at her huffing like a nine year old whose toy got taken away. She feels Derek nudge her. He wears a playful grin, softened by his gentle gaze.

 **Onscreen, Allison sidles up to Scott, quizzing him about Derek's sudden appearance. "It's nothing," Scott tries to brush off. "Stiles was just giving him a ride... it's a long story."**

 **"But I thought you said you weren't friends with him."**

 **Scott gapes at her, like a deer caught in headlights. "Well..." he begins nervously. "No, not really-"**

 **"Oh my god!" Allison gasps, eyes widening with realisation. She grabs her boyfriend's wrist, tugging him close. Glancing about as if looking for eavesdroppers, she asks him softly (eagerly). "Are they dating?"**

 **Scott's face furrows bemusedly. "Is who dating," he asks.**

 **"Stiles and Derek Hale," Allison states with a roll of her eyes.**

 **Scott balks, face ashen with fear, disgust and incredulity. "You think they're dating?" he asks, practically gagging on the last word.**

"Doesn't everybody?" Braeden mutters coyly, having to hide a laugh at the blush on Derek's face. Parrish fist-bumps her, enjoying seeing the broody werewolf flushing. He's made it a point to embarrass Derek about Stiles ever since the werewolf returned to town. If he were someone else, he'd probably fear the consequences of poking the bear -or in this case wolf - had it not been for the fact that he'd spent the summer with a moping, broken-hearted Stiles… not that she'd ever admit it.

 **"Well it would explain why I always see him around the two of you. Like at Lydia's party, or practice-"**

 **"He comes to practice?"**

 **"Sometimes... I don't think he likes seeing her swamped with so many guys. He's always glaring, must be jealous," Allison giggles a little.**

 **Scott frowns, muttering to himself, "No, he's just an ass."**

"True that," Stiles and Isaac hum in unison. Derek huffs.

 **Allison frowns. "It would also explain why you don't like him. I get it, Stiles is like your sister and you don't want her to get hurt."**

 **Scott looks ready to deny her again, when a look of realisation crosses his face. "Promise you won't say anything," he winces, knowing that Stiles and/or Derek are going to kill him for this later, and he's honestly not sure who terrifies him more.**

 **"I promise… so they've been together a while huh? I mean Lydia's party and- wait is that why she didn't want to go out with us after your scrimmage? And bowling night? She was out with him?"**

 **"Uh… yeah?"**

 **Allison squeals, but then collects herself. "Sorry, I know you hate it. But if he makes her happy that's good right?"**

 **"...yeah."**

"Oh my god, this is sooo awkward," Stiles groans.

Derek grimaces. "You told her I was dating Stiles? Were you trying to get me a life sentence?"

"It does seem to be their favourite hobby," Noah quips, rubbing his temples, despite being deeply amused.

"In my defence it was a good cover. It would explain why you were always hanging around us-" Scott says weakly.

"It's statutory rape, Scott," Derek growls, and Scott bows his head apologetically knowing full well how Derek feels about that.

"I'm sorry, I panicked! I do dumb shit when I panic," Scott whines guiltily.

"It's true," Stiles and Liam defend, Stiles for a plethora of reasons while for Liam he shivers at the memory of being duck-taped in Scott's bathtub. He thought it was some initiation prank gone extreme. In a way it was. "Scott's right," Stiles adds, "It was a good cover. And it's not like my dad was going to find out and arrest you. Teenagers may gossip, but we tell no grown ups. That's rule numero uno."

Sheriff rolls his eyes. "That makes me feel so much better Stiles," the man sarcastically quips.

"I'm not trying to make you feel better, old man. I'm trying to make Derek feel better."

"Why don't you kiss him," Isaac mutters, ducking his head fully expecting Lydia to slap him again. When the strike doesn't come, he turns to look at her curiously. She's got a perfect brow raised. "What?" she asks, as if insulted, "I agree with you."

Stiles on the other hand is not amused. Before she can rebut Isaac, Derek cuts in, "You're forgetting the part where Scott makes me the most wanted criminal in the state… again."

The eighteen year old winces. "Right… that was an awkward conversation with Allie."

 **The Argent girl frowns. "He does make her happy, right? Like she's not in any danger is she? I know he was arrested for killing his sister, but that turned out to be an animal attack, he was innocent… right? Scott? Please tell me, Stiles is safe?"**

 **Scott plants his hands on Allison's shoulders. "Stiles is perfectly safe with Derek," he tells her, steadily.**

Stiles snorts. Derek glares at her. Whiskey eyes turn to him wide and innocent. "What? Are you going to rip my throat out… with your teeth?" she asks, lightly. Derek freezes, eyes narrowing at her.

 **Allison releases a sigh of relief, relaxing her features. "Oh thank god. You had me worried for a second."**

 **"Sorry," Scott replies sheepishly. "So...um, we're still studying together, right?" Allison nods. "So I'll meet you back at your place?"**

 **"Yeah," she replies.**

 **As Allison walks back to her car, Scott returns to his bike. Hopping on, he rides quickly and with haste to her house, beating her by a few seconds. She looks at him pleasantly surprised, "How did you - You got here at the same time I did."**

 **"Oh. Yeah, I—I - I just took a shortcut. Really short shortcut."**

 **Allison leads him into the house, noting his nervousness. She questions his bizarre behaviour but the beta plays it off as stress from school. Taking his hand, she offers him a gentle smile and leads him to her room. "I'm still unpacking," she says explaining the mess in her bedroom.**

 **"Uh - Haven't you been here for, like, over a month?"**

 **Allison's smile wavers, "I'm taking my time." Clearly she still hasn't bought that she's staying in town for long.**

 **Noticing her change in mood, Scott tries to pull her attention to homework, "Hey, um - So, uh, I figure that we - Start with, um, history -"**

 **Studying isn't in the cards though, because before long Scott's kneeling over Allison, lips caressing her own with wild abandon. His hands slide up over the curve of her thighs and hips. For a second, his hand disappears into the silk sheets. When his fists unfurl, they reveal a set of dark, sharp claws. Noticing the shift, Scott frantically moves off Allison, curling his hands into his pockets.**

 **"What's wrong?" Allison asks worriedly, sitting up.**

 **"Nothing. I just - I—I - Don't wanna make you feel like you have to do something you don't wanna do."**

 **"I'm not doing anything I don't wanna do. Are you?"**

 **"Seriously asking me that question?"**

 **Scott's phone starts ringing. " Are you gonna answer that?" Allison asks him.**

 **Scott glances away from her to his phone. He can see Stiles' name light up the screen. "Um, uh, it's probably just Stiles. It'll go to voice mail…." the phone keeps ringing. "Eventually," he adds, awkwardly. Just as it stops, it starts again.**

 **The scene quickly changes to Stiles and Derek in her jeep, the latter looking worse for wear while Stiles looks ready to knock someone's lights out.**

Chris sighs with relief, glad for the scene change.

 **Stiles throws her phone down, returning her attention to the road. She cursed under her breath, something along the lines of Scott and horny boys and priorities and really needing to get laid.**

It's Noah's turn to groan. Melissa too, after all Stiles is her baby girl in all but blood.

 **Throwing an annoyed look at a sickly white Derek, she snaps at him, "Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay?"**

"Aren't you nurturing, Stiles," Lydia quips.

 **"We're almost there," Stiles tells Derek.**

 **"Almost where?" Derek asks tiredly.**

 **"Your house," she answers as if it's the most obvious answer.**

 **"What? No, you can't take me there." And Derek might actually look a little scared.**

 **"I can't take you to your own house?"**

 **"Not when I can't protect myself."**

 **Bemused and annoyed, Stiles pulls the jeep over to the side of the road. "All right," she begins turning to Derek, her expression serious. "What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?" For a second he doesn't answer, only wincing with pain at every slight motion he makes. Stiles' expression grows scared, concerned even for him. "Wait are you dying?" Still no answer. "Derek!?"**

 **"Not yet!" he growls at her. Huffing, he moves to pull off his jacket, but fails hopelessly.**

 **Rolling her eyes at him, somewhat sympathetically she offers her own hands for assistance: "Here let me," smacking away Derek's hand earning a growl and snap of his teeth at her fingers. She retracts her hands quickly, but snaps back at him, "I'm sorry go ahead, try to removing your leather jacket from you bleeding arm yourself. See if I care that you're causing your dying ass more pain."**

"I thought you were scared of him?" Braeden asks.

"I think I was more annoyed than scared at that moment. Plus I didn't have any adderall that morning." The others stare at her weirdly. "What?" she asks seeing their expressions.

"Why would you remember not taking adderall that morning?" Kira asks.

Stiles huffs, waving at the screen… "Because that entire car ride I kept thinking three things… mostly: 1. I'm going to kill Scott. 2. Derek might kill me before he dies. And 3. I need to update my adderall prescription."

Isaac gawks at her, muttering, "You are so weird." She retaliates by poking her tongue at him, only to have Derek shove her face back and snap at them all to pay attention to the screen because - and he quotes - "This was one of the most painful conversations of his life…"

"Aren't most conversations with my daughter?"

"Dad?!"

 **Derek glares at her but silently retreats, nodding to her to help him. Unbuckling her seatbelt, Stiles hovers over him. Gently but swiftly, she helps him off with his jacket, having had plenty of experience helping a drunk Scott change his clothes every so occasion when they'd both dip into their parents' liquor. She pauses, looking at his face, studying his pallor, the cold sweat clinging to his chiseled features. "Okay, and now your left arm…" she instructs softly as she eases the leather over and off his injured arm. Her eyes soften at the hitch in his breath, Derek trying his very best to cover up his pained expression at the jostling about. Collapsing back into her seat, she throws his jacket over her shoulder into her backseat.**

 **"There. Now was that so hard?" she asks Derek smugly, challenging his glare.**

 **"Yes," he bites out. "Painful."**

 **Her jaw drops with frustration. "Thank you would be acceptable, you know."**

 **"Maybe if you shut up-"**

 **"I'm trying to help you out here. The least you could do is be grateful," she snarls at him irritably.**

 **Derek chuckles breathily, scornfully - well more like scoffs at her. She doubts he even knows how to laugh or smile. "You? Help me? All you're really doing is babysitting me while Scott finds the bullet," he spits on the word babysitting, feeling personally offended at being dropped on the human girl's lap. "You can't help me," he says while rolling up his sleeve.**

Derek rubs his head where Malia had just smacked him. "You could have been nicer," the werecoyote berates him. Derek rolls his eyes, because of course Malia would defend Stiles over something so little - hell she even offered to torture Theo once just because Stiles had a hunch (a very correct hunch) that he was bad news.

"I was dying," he answers, as if that's explanation enough for his behaviour.

"You're always dying," Scott quips, then catching the glare pointed at him shrugs it off. "It's kind of true," the True Alpha says.

 **Stiles can't help the look of hurt at the offence, but it's completely wiped off by an overwhelming surge of disgust, anxiety and maybe - maybe - just a little bit of pity, at the sight of Derek's bullet wound. Black veins oozing viscous navy blood, stark against the pale skin of his arm. It looks like something out of a horror movie… Stiles is beginning to realise her life has become one. "Oh, my God. What is that?" Covering her nose and averting her eyes, she practically gags. "Oh m- is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out." She points at his door.**

"Stiles!" Melissa chastises. "You can't ask a dying man to get out of your car!"

"In my defence, Derek did say I wasn't really helping him, so…"

Derek sighs, muttering, "I didn't mean it," under his breath.

Stiles nudges his shoulder. "I'm sorry, what was that?" she asks.

He rolls his eyes. "You're a pain in my ass."

"We've covered that."

 **Derek glares at her as if really considering killing her. "Start the car. Now," he demands.**

 **She gawks at his audacity. "I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay?" she hisses. "In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."**

 **Derek glares at her with new heat. "Start the car," he bites out, "-or I'm gonna rip your throat out... With my teeth." His voice is low and clear, the seriousness of his threat ringing with severe clarity.**

 **For a few seconds the two are locked in a stare off, Stiles returning his glare with unabandoned scepticism and frustration before pulling out and putting the car into drive.**

Liam whistles, drawing Mason's attention. "I totally can't believe Derek threatened to kill Stiles."

"Ditto," Parrish and Braeden pipe in.

The older werewolf growls, "I didn't mean it," crossing his arms.

"Sure you didn't," Stiles teases.

Derek glares at her but catches the Sheriff and Argent glaring at him over her head. Like a kicked puppy, he hastily retreats, returning his attention to the screen. Melissa and Noshiko seem amused by the two men's protective instincts. Even if this was the past and things are so vastly, absurdly different now.

 **The scene changes back to Allison's bedroom, with Scott informing Allison that he's turned off his phone.**

"Dude!" Stiles says, slapping him over the head at the same moment Derek does. "I can't believe you stuck me with Derek like that!"

"Hey!" Derek says, as if insulted, only to receive a glare from Stiles which reads, "Really?"

 **Scott picks up a photo, featuring a slightly older blonde woman.**

 **"Who's this?" Scott asks, holding out the frame.**

 **Allison looks over his shoulder. "That's my dad's sister, Kate - except she's more like my sister. She got here last night."**

 **Scott appears to come to a realisation of who Derek's shooter was. Pushing for information, he asks, "Uh, last night?"**

 **Allison nods, "Yup. She had some car trouble, I guess."**

 **"She looks familiar."**

 **"Mm. She actually used to live in Beacon Hills. Maybe you saw her once," Allison suggests.**

 **Scott puts aside the frame and proceeds to look through more of Allison's photos, inquiring into her past interests. The two share a sweet moment of looking over her past projects: photography, painting, poetry - she snatches back an old diary before he can read any of her embarrassing sonnets.**

 **"What are you good at?" Scott asks, curious of her opinion, especially when she considers the masterpiece photographs to be terrible.**

 **Allison looks at him shyly, her grin growing cheeky. "I'm gonna show you if you promise not to laugh."**

 **Before he can ask, "What," she's dragging him downstairs by his hand. The brunette leads him into her family's garage and begins rifling through an old box marked with her name, while Scott looks around. "So I was nationally ranked as a kid, and my dad really wanted me to go on, but I don't know. I just didn't really like it. Promise you won't laugh?"**

 **"I promise," he says earnestly turning back to face her. When he does, his face collapses with fear at the sight of the weapon aimed at his face. "What the hell is that?" he exclaims.**

 **"It's a compound bow," she explains casually, as if it's completely normal to point one at her boyfriend. "And I'm pretty sure it requires an arrow to be harmful," she teases, noting his scared puppy expression. Scott gulps, "So that's what you're good at. Archery."**

 **Allison's glee wavers. "You said you wouldn't laugh," she says, lowering her bow.**

 **"Trust me, I'm - Not laughing."**

"No, though you do look like you just shit yourself," Isaac quips, humourously.

"I thought I did," Scott says, remembering the fear. "I thought she knew I was a werewolf and was going to… you know."

Isaac winces. "Yeah, I know the feeling. There was this time when Argent walked in on us-"

"Isaac," Chris clears his throat. "I think we'll get to that eventually, boys."

 **Scott's attention then catches on the wall of firearms behind her. Paying little attention to Allison, and remembering his mission, he steps around her, cautiously approaching the gun locker. Allison follows his gaze. Flushing with embarrassment, she tilts her head adorably and sidles up behind him… "So I guess I should explain. We're not some sort of separatist gun - nut family. My dad sells firearms to law enforcement."**

Mason looks over at Chris, asking, "Is that just a cover story or do you really-"

"Both," Chris answers.

" **Oh…" Scott breathes, staring at the array of firearms. "That's... good. So, um - Are you planning on joining the family business?" he asks, not really sure which aspect of the family business he's asking about.**

 **Allison shrugs, "I don't know. You tell me," she grabs a gun of the rack, holding it at her hips provocatively like a model out of Guns R Us. "Would I look hot with a gun?" she asks coyly. "Hotter without," Scott smiles, moving to replace the gun back in its hold, before pulling her into a kiss.**

 **Just as things start to heat up, they hear Kate shout out to her brother, "Hey, Chris! Get your ass out of the '50s and come help with the groceries."**

"She really knows how to kill a mood," Stiles mutters, crossing her arms, pure hate seething from her.

Derek can't help but smirk.

" **Be right there!" Chris answers, coming into the garage just as Scott and Allison take cover. He appears to go through some of the boxes before retreating back into the house. Scott and Allison share a look of relief at not being caught, only for a shadow to fall over them. Chris avoids looking at them, tapping his fingers along the edge of the car. "Kids, you mind helping?"**

 **Allison and Scott nod emphatically, embarrassed about being caught and agree to help.**

 **The scene shifts again to outside the Argent home as Scott and Chris help with the last of the bags. As Allison approaches Scott, he asks, "So do you still wanna study?"**

 **Argent, being the lurker and hover-parent he is, answers for his daughter, "I think she'll concentrate better on her own."**

 **"Guess I'll see you later then?" Scott directs at Allison.**

 **"At school," Chris interrupts again.**

 **"Right," Scott say sheepishly.**

 **Allison looks ready to argue but her father stops her, pointing towards the house. "You inside. And you," he gestures to Scott, "-on your bike."**

 **Before Scott can get anywhere near his bike, Kate bounds up to the three of them, throwing an arm over her brothers shoulders. He appears to deflate, already knowing his sister's plan. "Oh, come on, Chris. Really? They were making out in the garage, not shooting amateur p0rn-"**

"... who says that?" Mason asks.

"A psychotic bitch," Scott, Stiles, Derek and Lydia answer all at once.

" **You-" Kate looks at Scott, "With the adorable brown eyes, drop your bike. You're staying for dinner."**

 **Scott looks bewildered, glancing between the three Argents.**

 **Chris sighs at his sister's expression. "Do you eat meat?" he asks Scott, not at all interested in what the boy has to say.**

 **The young beta's eyes widen. "You don't mind?"**

 **Forcing a smile, Chris replies, "Actually, no. Gives us a chance to get to know each other."**

Lydia snorts - snorts. "I'm sorry," she starts to chuckle. "But it's kind of ironic, right. The wolf entering thehunters' den."

 **The dinner table is very awkward and tense. Victoria smiles at Scott politely, "Would you like something to drink besides water, Scott?"**

Scott can't help but cringe at the memory of this woman standing over him while he lay dying. Now seeing her, seeing Kate, he can't help but remember how good that dinner was, albeit awkward. He can't help but remember thinking Kate and Victoria were kind women, albeit hunters; he was afraid of them, there was no question, but he'd thought them good people. In a way, he supposes he forgives Victoria for what she'd done, but Kate… he prays that she never cross them again, for her sake.

 **"Oh - No, I'm good," Scott answers. "Thanks."**

 **"We can get you some beer?" Chris offers.**

Melissa stares at him. Chris shrugs. She rolls her eyes, but grins at his cheek. Beside him, Noah mutters, "Dammit never thought of that one…"

"You never had to, dad," Stiles quips wryly, obviously having heard her father. Asides from Aiden and that one guy from Devonford, she'd never had a boyfriend. As she'd once told Allison, people weren't flocking to be her friend, let alone ask her out. Next to her Derek frowns at the sudden bout of self-insecurity he's sensing from the girl, despite the fact that deep down he's secretly (or not, given everyone's comments today) glad Stiles hasn't had dumb high school jocks lining up for her like they had Lydia and Allison. Back then he hadn't cared, but now he's glad she had become Matt's obsession, even if that did mean having a gun turned on her. It has been painful enough watching Theo try to get closer to her despite all her suspicions of him; there were plenty of times when her reassurances of her severe distrust in the chimera hadn't been enough to quell Derek's jealousy, especially when-

Derek stops his train of thoughts from leading him there, particularly when there's a smaller, calloused hand interwining with his. He meets Stiles' gaze. Worry and confusion fills her whiskey eyes. "You okay?" she mouths to him silently, even though they both know the other shifters in the room could probably sense whatever's wrong with him. Derek nods, as if to brush her off, but she purses her lips and tilts their intertwined hands, revealing his claws. Realising his slip up, Derek quickly retracts his claws and goes to retract his hand, but Stiles latches on tight.

Ignoring him, she snuggles up to his, turning her attention back to the screen. Derek watches her a moment before doing the same.

He realises he'd zoned out long enough to miss most of the awkward dinner party, but can't say he's sorry if it means missing out on seeing normal, friendly, likeable Kate.

Around him the others are laughing, mostly at Argent's expense though, the other parents teasing him for his over-protectiveness and hazing.

 **"Scott's amazing too," Allison gushes to Kate about Scott's lacrosse abilities. "Dad came with me to the first game. Wasn't he good?" she goads her father, trying to get him to say something nice about her boyfriend. "He was fine," Chris answers, picking at his food, not looking at her.**

 **Allison narrows her eyes at him, but then turns back to Kate with a wide grin. "He scored the last shot, the winning shot-"**

 **"True, but he didn't score at all until the last few minutes," Chris interrupts.**

 **"His last shot ripped a hole through the goalie's net. It was incredible," the young brunette continues, trying to ignore her father.**

 **"Well, I think the goalie was probably playing with a defective stick, so -"**

 **Allison clenches her jaw, frustrated at her dad's behaviour. Under the table, Scott takes her hand in his, squeezing to comfort her. "You know," he looks at Argent, "-on second thought, um, I think I'll take that shot of Tequila."**

 **Chris stares at Scott scrutinising him, while Victoria glances between her husband and Scott, amusement pulling at her lips. "You were kidding, right?" Chris eventually asks, a grin on his face.**

 **"Yeah," Scott breathes.**

"Atta boy," Stiles slaps Scott on the back. He grins at her, glad to see her acting so casual with him again. Her grin softens, as does her eyes. The share a gentle smile before turning back to the screen.

 **Stiles is leaning away from Derek, who seems to be caving in on himself even more. If it's possible, he looks even worse than before. "What am I supposed to do with him?" she hisses into her phone.**

 **The voice on the other end turns out to be Scott, telling her to, "Take him somewhere, anywhere."**

 **Stiles rolls her eyes at the unhelpful information. "And, by the way, he's starting to smell," she adds.**

 **This causes Scott to pause on his end. "Like - like what?" he asks, afraid of the answer.**

 **Screwing up her face, Stiles replies, "Like death." Derek growls at her from his seat and she raises a hand at him, gesturing him to hush. Derek snaps his teeth at her fingers, giving her enough time to snatch her hand back and tuck it around her stomach, her expression caught between anger and fear.**

 **Scott had obviously heard her squeal and worriedly asks her, "What's wrong? Did he hurt you? Shit, Allison's going to kill me if he hurt you."**

 **Stiles pauses, looking away from Derek. "Why would Allison kill you if Derek hurt me? Actually, scratch that. I'd kill you if Derek hurts me. In fact you should kill you if Derek hurts me. Because it was your shitty idea to dump him with me!"**

 **"Okay, okay! I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, I swear. I-I'll beg Lydia to set you up with Daniel."**

 **"... Daniel Greenleaf?"**

 **"Yes!"**

 **"... okay, I won't kill you." Next to her Derek bangs his head against the window, muttering under his breath about stupid teenagers and wishing he was dead.**

"Daniel, as in Captain of the soccer team, Daniel. Hot-ass Daniel?" Kira asks, ignoring her boyfriend's squawk of indignation at the compliment paid to another guy.

"Yup," Stiles quips monotonously.

"How did that work out?"

Stiles' knuckles go white as she clenches them, completely forgetting one hand is still holding Derek's. Fortunately he takes it silently, more disturbed by her silent anger. "He was an hour and half late for dinner," Stiles begins, trying to keep her voice emotionless at the memory, "and when arrived-" her breath hitches, the only audible giveaway of her quiet upset; taking a breath, "-he made a move on me-"

"He what?" Isaac and the Sheriff ask absolutely infuriated. Melissa also is angry, but she doesn't seem surprised at all, knowing full well the outcome of that night, remembering the way she held Stiles tight as the girl cried her heart out.

Rolling her eyes irritably, Stiles bites out, "He made a move on me. Wouldn't take no for an answer. So I punched him-"

"Atta girl," Braeden says, pride in her eyes despite feeling bad for Stiles.

Stiles grins weakly at her. Shrugging her shoulders, she looks down at her hand joined with the oldest werewolf. She could say more; she could tell them that Daniel had called her an undateable spaz, only just barely worth a cheap lay and that she should be grateful he's even willing to fuck her. She'd told Lydia because the girl had practically interrogated the day after, particularly interested in why Daniel was now sporting a broken nose and shiner; the next day Lydia dragged her on a shopping trip with Allison. She'd told Melissa the night of the date but she hadn't told Scott, not until the Summer after her then boyfriend of two weeks cheated on her - she didn't want him to lose control and kill any assholes (as much as she had entertained the idea).

" **Just take him to the animal clinic," Scott says - begs.**

 **"What about your boss?" Stiles asks.**

 **"He's gone by now. There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster."**

 **Stiles shakes her head, pinching her nose, contemplating just how bad this idea - this day - is. Passing the phone to Derek, she tells him, "You're not gonna believe where he's telling me to take you." She would laugh and make a dog joke, but she's got a migraine the size of Texas and a dying werewolf riding shotgun who still is very likely to rip out her throat.**

 **"Did you find it?" Derek practically gasps.**

 **"How am I supposed to find one bullet? They have a million. This house is like - the fricken Walmart of guns," Scott says frantically.**

 **Gritting his teeth, Derek admits, "Look, if you don't find it, then I'm dead, all right?"**

 **"I'm starting to think that wouldn't be such a bad thing," the boy mutters.**

 **"Then think about this. The Alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time you either kill with him or you get killed. So if you wanna stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet." Derek hangs up, tossing the phone back at Stiles who fumbles trying to catch it. He points at the road, silently ordering her to mush. Rolling her eyes, she pulls back onto street. "I better get laid for this," she mutters, earning a disgusted glare from the older man. Catching his expression Stiles matches his disgust. "Ew, not from you, creep. You're like 30, old man."**

 **"I'm 22," he huffs.**

 **"Same difference. You're old-"**

 **"Not old-"**

 **"I'm a minor-"**

 **"And an idiot-"**

 **"I'm not touching you with a ten foot pole. Or thinking about touching you with a ten foot pole. There's a word for it dude. Statutory Rape."**

 **Derek's quiet for a few seconds before whispering, "That's two words."**

 **Stiles fights the urge to ram her head into her steering wheel. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you," she mutters.**

 **"... maybe you're not as much as idiot as I think," Derek says voice low and full of… some emotion that she can't quite pinpoint though one glance at him, leaning his head against the glass to cool down, fills her with an odd sense of sympathy. She observes him quietly for a few seconds out of the corner of her eye. Clearing her throat, awkwardly she says, "Yeah… well, if you're really Scott's last hope, then we should probably keep you out of jail…" Derek almost smiles, almost, but it's Stiles and she ruins the moment by adding, "-even though I'm pretty sure you're still going to kill us. Or me at least… I'm joking."**

 **"No you're not," Derek sighs irritated.**

 **"Right… shutting up now."**

Liam shakes his head. "I'm really struggling to see how that ends up as these two," he points at Derek and Stiles.

Scott frowns at him, though is still amused, as is Lydia and Malia. "Why?" the True Alpha asks. "They pretty much argue like that still."

"Uh, hello, we are right here and do not appreciate y'all talking about us like we're not," Stiles waves at herself and Derek.

Everyone else rolls their eyes and pays attention to the screen.

 **Kate corners a snooping Scott. "You look like a little lost puppy," she surprises him.**

 **"Just looking for the bathroom," he says, heart leaping out of his mouth.**

 **"Bathroom? Does that look like a bathroom?" she gestures to the security locked door.**

 **"No," Scott shakes his head like the puppy Kate calls him.**

 **"No. Use the guest bedroom," she leads him to her room.**

 **"Okay. Thanks," he says awkwardly sliding past her. She leaves him to it. As Scott inches towards the bathroom defeated, his eyes catch on a duffel peeking out from under Kate's bed. Glancing back at the door to make sure she's gone, he drops to his knees and burrows into the bag. It takes him a bit, his hands frantically moving around bullets and weapons, careful not to jostle things about too much and risk Kate getting suspicious. His hands finally come across a small wooden box, inside a single bullet is missing. He doesn't recognise the foreign engraving, but works quickly to draw up google translate.**

 **The scene switches to Stiles supporting Derek as she walks him over to the back storage unit of the clinic. She sets him down on a pile of dog food, turning away to read a new text from Scott.**

 **"Does Northern blue monkshood mean anything to you?" she asks the older man.**

 **Derek's eyes widen with recognition. He nods, "It's a rare form of wolfsbane. He has to bring me the bullet."**

 **"Why?" she asks, dreading the answer already.**

 **Derek licks his lips. " 'Cause I'm gonna die without it."**

 **Back at the Argent household, Scott receives a text from Stiles instructing him to bring a bullet. He slips one from the wooden pouch and into his back pocket before settling everything back the way he thinks he found it.**

 **Returning to the dining room he tells the Argents. "Hey, um, I should get going. Um, thanks for dinner."**

 **"Oh, no, no, no, no, no. You have to stay for dessert. I wanna know more about you. Sit down."**

 **Scott gulps. "Okay."**

"Man you suck," Isaac breathes.

"I panicked!"

 **Sitting down, scott immediately catches Victoria's attention. "So Scott, Allison was just telling us that you work for a veterinarian."**

 **"I told them how you put the cast on the dog I hit," his girlfriend tells him, pride in her voice.**

 **"What does your boss think of the animal attacks? Any theories?" Chris interrupts Scott before he can say anything.**

 **Wide-eyed, Scott grasps for half-truths. "Well… everyone was just saying it's a mountain lion."**

 **Kate notches her spoon at him, saying "It'd have to be a pretty large mountain lion."**

 **"What do you think, Scott?" Victoria asks, pointedly glaring at Kate.**

 **"I don't know. We usually get cats and dogs at the vet. Nothing that vicious," Scott answers, truthfully, uncomfortable of where this conversation may be leading.**

 **Chris looks at him. "Never had to deal with a rabid dog?" Scott shakes his head. "Oh. I grew up with a lot of dogs-" at this Scott raises a brow, wondering what exactly Chris classes as a dog, "- I saw one get rabies from a bat. It was transferred through the bite. You know, people think that a rabid dog just suddenly goes mad. It's a lot more gradual. First stage is subtle changes in behavior - They're restless, morose. It's the second stage that people know - the furious phase. That's when they attack-" Scott gulps, fingers clenching against his thighs, fighting the urge to let his claws and fangs slip out. "And we're talking any moving object. Did you know that a caged rabid dog will break its own teeth, trying to chew through the bars? It'll even rear back and snap its own spine. Can you imagine the amount of force it would take to do that? It's a complete character reversal. This harmless animal - Turned into a perfectly vicious killer. And it all started with that one bite."**

"No offence Argent, but you're pretty creepy yourself," Parrish chirrups from his corner.

"Please, that rabid dog story scared you?" Stiles asks incredulously.

"It was pretty ominous," Liam says, shaking a bit.

Stiles rolls her eyes muttering, "Boys are such babies." It earns her an elbow to the stomach from both Scott and Derek, the latter though doesn't release his hold on her hand, and smiles down at her half-hearted glare.

 **"But it died, didn't it?" Allison asks, a little fear in her voice, clearly affected by the story too.**

 **"Yes," Victoria answers, "-because your grandfather shot it."**

Stiles stiffens at the mention of Gerard.

" **Because he wanted to put it out of its misery?" Allison inquires innocently.**

 **"Because it was too dangerous," her father answers, ignoring how affected Scott is becoming by this story, "Something that out of control is better off dead."**

Argent coughs awkwardly. "Uh… I don't- I don't feel that way anymore," he announces honestly. The eldest three werewolves look at him with a mutual understanding and respect for how far they've come.

 **Stiles and Derek stumble into Deaton's clinical bay. Derek slips his arm over Stiles' head, stumbling against the table as he pulls his shirt over his head. Stiles' eyes can't help but follow the ripple of muscle under his sweat-slicked back. Licking her lips, she whispers, "Ho-ly ma-ma."**

"Hey Stiles, you got a little drool-"

"Shut up, Malia."

Derek leans into her, his lips just above her ear. She can't help but shiver. "Wouldn't even think about touching me with a ten foot pole, huh?"

She glares at him, but can't help it when her eyes flicker to his lips. Derek smirks at her knowingly. Stiles huffs and turns back to the screen.

 **Shaking off her arousal, Stiles turns her attention to Derek's injury. She winces - it looks to have gotten worse, black veins spreading over and across his arm and shoulder. "Okay. You know, that really doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night of sleep couldn't take care of," she says.**

 **"When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me," Derek explains, scouring through Deatons cupboards and drawers for something.**

 **"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?"**

 **"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time - Last resort."**

 **Stiles raises her eyebrows. "Which is?"**

 **Derek appears to have found what he is looking for. He turns to face her dropping something heavy onto the table. A saw.**

 **Stiles is too busy gawking at the razor blade that she almost misses hearing Derek say, "You're gonna cut off my arm."**

Liam and Mason flinch, as does Parrish. The eldest of the three looks towards his new friend, questioning the young Hale, "You were joking, right? Trying to get her to shut up?"

Both twenty four year olds ignore Stiles' indignated gasp, opting to silently communicate - this is Derek stares at Parrish with an expression that's a cross between "You're an idiot," "You have no idea," and"What's a joke?"

Clearly his throat awkwardly, Parrish nods. Grimacing, he says, "Right, not a joke then."

Liam raises his hand, face a looking a little pale. He might have shown courage in La Iglesia, but none of the pack sans his best friend knows about his debilitating fear of needs and all things decapitating. "Just curious… what would happen if our arm gets cut off. Like do we reattach it or does it grow back?"

That earns incredulous looks from everyone. Not even Mason can hide his shame behind his hands.

Isaac stares at the younger beta critically, voicing aloud to no one in particular, "Man he's worse than Scott."

"Hey!" Both Scott and Liam huff.

Ignoring Liam Isaac turns to Scott. Throwing the True Alpha a cheeky wink, he adds, "Don't worry. You're still the hot girl."

Stiles snorts amusedly while Scott gapes. "Duude…" Scott whines.

 **Allison walks Scott to the door. "I'm so incredibly sorry," she begins before he can thank her.**

 **"For what?"**

 **"For that being the worst, most horribly awkward dinner ever in the history of horribly awkward dinners."**

 **"No. Uh, it wasn't the worst. There was this one dinner where my parents told me they were getting a divorce. This comes in at a close second." Smiling at her boyfriend's adorable idiocy, Allison curls her fingers into his shirt and leans forward. Just as her lips brush against his, Scott clears his throat, muttering, "Your dad's watching."**

 **Allison's grin grows wider. "Good." And then she pulls him in for a passionate kiss. Chris who had been lurking like the overprotective dad he is, cringes and quickly moves somewhere that doesn't burn his eyes and make his fingers itch to pull a trigger.**

 **Scott reluctantly pulls away, smiling dopily at Allison. Without taking his eyes off her, he moves to open the door.**

 **"Wait a second, guys," Kate calls out, running down the stairs.**

 **"What is it?" Allison asks frowning.**

 **Kate leans past both teenagers, pushing the door shut. "Uh, I have to ask Scott something," she says.**

 **Scott gulps, "Me?"**

 **"Yeah, you."**

 **"Okay," he nods hesitantly, the bullet in his back pocket feeling like an anchor with a bright pink neon sign. "Uh. What'd you take from my bag?"**

 **Scott's eyes widen as does Allison's. "What?" the boy asks.**

 **"My bag," Kate begins, "What'd you take from it? Do you need me to repeat the question, maybe enunciate more clearly?" she taunts.**

 **Chris then joins them asking about what's going on, mostly wondering why the hell Scott is still here. "My bag was open in the guest room, and when I left it was shut," Kate begins explaining. "And Scott comes in to use the bathroom, he leaves, my bag's open. Now, look - I hate to be the accuser here, Scott, because I really do love those adorable brown eyes, but I don't know if you're a klepto, if you're curious, or - or if you're just stupid. But answer the question. What did you take?"**

 **"Nothing," Scott swears, lying through his teeth better than he's ever done before. Understandably, his life relies on it.**

 **Kate quirks her eyebrows at the challenge. "You don't mind proving it, do you?"**

 **"Are you serious?" Allison squawks indignantly.**

 **Ignoring her niece, Kate continues with her interrogation... "How about you show us what's in your pockets?"**

 **Allison turns to her dad, pleading him to end this embarrassment.**

 **"Come on, Scott. Prove me wrong," Kate badgers.**

 **"I'll prove you wrong," Allison says glancing away from her unhelpful father and overwhelmed boyfriend. "It wasn't Scott going through your bags. It was me."**

 **Kate looks at her with amused disbelief. "You?"**

 **Allison doesn't back down from the challenge. She hums, "Me." She raises her hand revealing a condom. Scott gawks, hands clasping his head as he turns away.**

 **Kate looks defeated and embarrassed though manages to smirk at her brother's pain.**

 **Scott manages to make a quick escape. As he's loading up on his bike, he can't help but pause and glance back at the house, realising how close he could have been to- a cheesy grin lifts his face.**

"That's my boy!" Stiles congratulates pridefully, clapping Scott on the back. Kira rolls her eyes though is amused at her boyfriend's embarrassment, and even more so that the rift between him and his best friend/soul-sister seems to be threading together.

Chris clears his throat, unable to hide his irritation. Stiles and Scott flinch from that sheepishly, though Stiles really can't hide her grin. It quickly falls though as the scene changes back to the animal clinic. "Oh right. This shit-"

 **Onscreen Stiles flinches as Derek starts tying a string around his upper arm - a makeshift turniquet. And - oh shit - yes he's very, very serious. "Oh, my God. What if you bleed to death?"**

 **"It'll heal if it works."**

 **"Ugh. Look - I don't know if I can do this," she admits, half-gagging at the very thought.**

 **String between his teeth, the werewolf huffs at her annoyed, "Why not?"**

 **"Well," Stiles begins to list off her finger, "because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!" she squawks, throwing her hands up.**

 **Derek shakes his head. His gaze turns to her, tone rich with frustration, as he comments, "You faint at the sight of blood?"**

 **"No! I bleed from the vagina every month, asshole-" and god, the twenty two year old does flinch at the V-word because for all his sullen, grandpa-ness, he's still a twenty-two year old male; hell he's a male period and the very mention of a period is enough to make him squeam - more than he is at the moment.**

"Ew, Stiles!"

"Grow up, guys!" Lydia rolls her eyes at the boys' stupidity. But not even Parrish and Derek can hide their awkwardness and mild disgust.

 **Without stopping, Stiles goes on, "-but I might faint at the sight of a chopped - off arm!"**

 **"All right, fine," Derek sighs, exasperated and deadly despite his sickly appearance. "How about this? Either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head."**

 **"Okay, you know what, I'm so not buying your threats any -" in a flash Derek's got a fist around the collar of her shirt, yanking her forward so that she's barely a hair's breadth from his teeth. His nose flares, eyes flashing with a deeply unsated animalistic verocity. Raising her hands in defence Stiles begs him to let go, promising to chop his "stupid arm off," if he doesn't kill her.**

"... so when exactly does Derek stop threatening to kill Stiles-"

"Shhhh!"

 **At that moment Derek let's go. His body hurtles over the side of the table; black viscous vomitus spills to the floor from his lips.**

 **Stiles cringes. "Holy God, what the hell is that?"**

 **Pushing himself to straighten up, Derek answers, "It's my body - Trying to heal itself."**

 **"Well, it's not doing a very good job!"**

 **"Now. You gotta do it now," he pushes the saw towards the girl.**

 **"Look, honestly, I don't think I can-"**

 **"Just do it!"**

 **"Oh, my God. Okay, okay. Oh, my God. All right, here we go!" the blade turns on, buzzing loudly, ominously in the otherwise silent room. Stiles begins lowering it-**

Unable to help herself, Stiles wraps her fingers around that very same arm; she's so caught up in the flashbacks, she doesn't even realise it. But Derek does. Biting down a smile, he wraps his finger over hers, shuffling a little to press his side against hers.

" **Stiles!" Scott's voice rings out. Not a second later, the young beta storms through the door. His eyes widen at the scene before him. "What the hell are you doing?"**

 **Stiles turns of the saw, throwing it far away from her. Slumping against the table she grins gratefully at her bro - "Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares."**

Stiles coughs.

 **"Did you get it?" Derek demands. Scott quickly peels the bullet from his back pocket, passing it to Derek. Both teens crowd around him, a little scared and a lot curious. "What are you gonna do with it?" Stiles inquires.**

 **"I'm gonna - I'm gonna -" Derek begins to sway. Suddenly he drops to the ground, the bullet tumbling out of his hand into a drain.**

 **Scott nose-dives for the bullet pressing himself to the floor as his fingers try in vain to pick it from the underground**

 **Stiles herself is crouched over Derek. "Derek," she asks shakily. "Derek, come on, wake up," she begs, her eyes beginning to wet. She shakes his shoulders desperate but the werewolf remains unconscious. "Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?" she shouts to Scott.**

 **"I don't know! I can't reach it."**

 **"He's not waking up! I think he's dying. I think he's dead!"**

 **"Just hold on!" Scott growls. Pausing to take a breath, he focuses his senses. Beneath half-lidded eyes, his irises turn gold. In the drain, his claws grow, grasping the bullet. "I got it!" Scott exclaims, pulling the bullet out. "I got it!"**

 **Stiles bites her lip, looking away from Scott to Derek. "Please don't kill me for this," she begs an unconscious Derek. Without warning - not that he'd need it - she slams her fist into his cheek.**

The group flinches at the loud crack.

"Did she-"

"Yup," Derek answers monotously. Because yes, that crack was his cheekbone shattering. A small break that healed in seconds but still…

Stiles grins sheepishly, "Hey it saved your life…"

 **Derek lurches up, awake and maybe a little dazed. Beside him Stiles is clutching her fist, cursing about the pain and how she's pretty sure she just broke her arm. Scott stumbles over to them and both teens heft Derek to his feet.**

 **"Give me - " Derek demands for the bullet all caveman like. Taking it from the younger boy, he bites into the cap and spitting it out. Derek then taps out the wolfsbane-lace gunpowder. Taking a match from his back pocket -**

"Why do you carry a match?" Malia asks.

Derek shrugs. "I used to smoke."

"Ew!" Scott, Stiles and Lydia whine.

"I don't anymore," the beta huffs.

Stiles nods, grinning. "Good." Derek rolls his eyes but lets her snuggle back into him. He silently wonders when he and Stiles had come to the point that hugs and free touches and snuggling were things they did - were things that people just expected when it came to the two of them. He's not complaining. Not by a longshot. But seeing these flashbacks, even he thinks it's a little ridiculous and almost unbelievable that they're same people they were two years before.

 **Derek lights the powder; a blue mist rises from it. Brushing the dust into his cupped hand, Derek presses it into his wound. He immediately bites his tongue to stop his shouts of pain. Scott pulls Stiles back and away from the tortured werewolf as he falls onto his back, grunting in pain, squirming on the floor, as the wolfsbane burns itself out.**

 **After a few very terrifying moments, he comes still. Releasing his arm, the last of the poison burns out and his skin heals over.**

 **Stiles and Scott look like deer caught in headlight. Then suddenly, Stiles throws her hands up -"That - Was - Awesome! Yes!"**

"Stiles you're such a freak," Isaac mutters, earning himself a slap over the head from Lydia and a (rather pathetic) growl from Stiles herself.

 **Scott glances at her incredulous. Stiles shrugs. Shaking his head, the young werewolf turns to Derek. "Are you okay?"**

 **"Well, except for the agonizing pain."**

 **"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health," she smirks but it falls away as Derek growls at her, his eyes piercing and deadly and full of promise to maim and kill. She shrinks away a little and Scott steps in front of his pseudo-sister, taking a protective stance.**

 **"Okay, we saved your life, which means you're gonna leave us alone, you got that? And if you don't, I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad, and I'm gonna tell him everything."**

 **If Derek was the laughing sort, he'd be doing that right about now. Instead he just levels Scott with an icy glare. "You're gonna trust them? You think they can help you?" He moves to stand over Scott.**

 **"Well... why not? They're a lot freaking nicer than you are!"**

 **Derek smirks at Scott but there's nothing but anger and anguish in his eyes. "I can show you exactly hownice they are," he practically spits the words nice. Looking at Stiles he orders, "You're dropping us off to pick up my camaro and then you're going home."**

 **"Wha- but why can't I come on the roadtrip?" Stiles whines.**

 **"It's not a roadtrip," Derek growls shoving past her to pick up the shirt he'd discarded earlier. Pulling it on, he turns back to the pair of teenagers.**

 **Stiles has her arms crossed over her chest. She's stubbornly glaring at him. "Scott's not going anywhere with you, without me."**

 **Derek smirks. "You think you're going to protect him from the big bad wolf?"**

"Oh my god, did Derek just make a fairytale joke. Scratch that, did Derek just make a joke?" Isaac whispers conspiratorially to Liam, Mason and Braeden who nod just a little weirded out too. Scott pats Derek's shoulder with mock sympathy. Sure the former alpha has lightened up (just a teensy bit) but he still has zero sense of humor - according to Stiles that is. Scott, Lydia and Malia find the pair's banter all too comedic.

" **Maybe," Stiles mutters.**

 **Derek moves closer and she can't help but shudder as she flinches away. Baring his teeth at her in a vicious smile, he says, "You're just a little human girl."**

 **"A little human girl who saved your ass-"**

 **"Actually Scott did," Derek cuts her off, though he doesn't look any happier admitting that he needed anyone's help in the first place. "Now you're going to take us to my car and go home, because if I have to spend another minute listening to you babble - I'll rip your tongue out of your head."**

"Oh my god, all you Hales are alike," Stiles mutters, recalling when Cora had said the exact same thing once.

 **Stiles gawks at him, the pair of them ignoring Scott's defensive growl. She flounders for a few seconds, while Derek only raises his eyebrows at her challengingly. "Ugh, fine," she huffs, shoving past both werewolves. "I hate werewolves," she mutters venomously.**

"Clearly," the Sheriff mocks monotously, eyeing the pack of supernatural youths and his very breakable, human daughter amidst them sporting a few bruises and scratches from her tussles with chimeras.

 **The scene changes to the hospital. Derek's leading Scott into the long-term care facility. "What are we doing here?" Scott asks, glancing about warily as if he's walking into a trap. He receives no answer from the older werewolf. Hurrying to keep up, Scott follows Derek into a private room. By the window, a man sits in a wheelchair; he's catatonic by the looks of it, facing away from the pair of werewolves.**

 **"Who is he?" Scott asks, suddenly fearful.**

 **Derek looks like a scared child all of a sudden, fearful and trying to hold it together. Remorseful. He swallows. "My uncle. Peter Hale," he answers after a moment**.

A few growls around the room. No surprise there. If Derek and Malia are oddly quiet, no one comments, though Stiles does squeeze Derek's arm comfortingly.

 **"Is he -" Scott hesitates a moment, before finding his voice - "Is he like you, a werewolf?"**

 **"He was. Now he's barely even human… Six years ago, my sister and I were at school, and our house caught fire. 11 people were trapped inside. He was the only survivor."**

 **Scott gulps. "So - What makes you so sure that they set the fire?" he's asks referring to the Argents.**

 **"'Cause they're the only ones that knew about us," Derek answers, voice tight with frustration, anger and grief.**

 **"Well, then -" the young beta seems to be grasping at straws… "They had a reason."**

"Dude," Isaac says, shooting Scott a chastising look. Even his mother is glaring at him.

"I'm sorry," Scott pleas to Derek with his eyes; the older werewolf brushes it off, silently telling Scott that his apology is undue. They've both moved past their distrust and forged a brotherly bond no one, least of all they, could have expected.

 **Derek turns on Scott. Rage and contempt mark his once sullen features. "Like what?" he hisses. "You tell me what justifies this-" with one hand, he spins Peter around, revealing the burn scars covering half his face; and judging by the way they lead down his neck, half his body too.**

Everyone gasps. They all knew and yet… no one expected it to be that bad.

 **"They say they'll only kill an adult, and only with absolute proof, but there were people in my family that were perfectly ordinary in that fire. This is what they do. And it's what Allison will do."**

Derek looks down at his hands, ashamed at the cruel way he'd treated Allison. Yes they'd been enemies. For so long. But then there'd been a moment in his loft, when the Oni had come for the Nogitsune possessing Stiles… Allison had his back then, and he'd had hers. They weren't friends from then on out, and he doubts she'd ever given him the trust Scott had, but he'd be lying if he said he never respected her. For all her faults, he'd been just like her. Another victim of her psychotic family; she'd made mistakes, but she'd fought for her redemption - more than he ever did. And she died for it.

She died for Stiles and Scott - Derek will forever be grateful to Allison for it.

Derek will forever regret that Allison gave her life.

He looks at Chris now, a man just as broken as he is. Chris meets his gaze and nods, a weak smile at his lips. Just like the one Derek had given Scott moments ago.

 **A familiar red-haired nurse enters the room. "What are you doing? How did you get in here?" she demands to know.**

 **Without looking away from Scott, Derek answers, "We were just leaving." He then strides past the nurse, Scott in tow offering one last glance at the shell of a human Peter Hale had become.**

"You know," Derek begins, "- after everything that's happened… it makes sense why he- Peter was never the same after the fire. I made him the way he was-"

"No you didn't," Stiles chastises, trying to catch Derek's eye but he stubbornly refuses to meet her gaze, knowing that she'll make him feel better. She always does… in her own annoying way.

 **The scene changes to inside the Argent living room. Kate and Chris are casually hanging about in front of the fireplace, though judging by Chris' expression, they're discussing something serious. Kate's walking about swinging a fire stoker. "The one that attacked me was big. It had width and power. But the one I shot was lean and fast-" she points to Chris who answers, "Well, that would be Derek Hale."**

 **Kate hides a smirk of satisfaction, asking "Are we sure?"**

 **"Mostly," her brother shrugs.**

 **"Well, how do we know it's just two of 'em?"**

 **"We don't yet. But if Derek's still alive, he will lead us to the Alpha."**

 **"Take the pack leader, and take the pack," Kate grins like a child at christmas.**

 **Chris looks at her pointedly, reminding her, "And we do it according to the code."**

 **"You and the code," the huntress pouts.**

 **Chris' jaw tenses. "It's there for a reason, Kate."**

 **"Of course," she waves him off. Grabbing a matchbox off the sill, she lights a match and tosses it into the fireplace. Crouching low, a devilish smirk plays at her lips as she gazes transfixed into the livening flames. "I always play by the rules."**

"Bitch is creepy," Malia mutters.

"Bitch needs to die," Lydia and Stiles agree, while Kira nods vehemently.

 **The scene cuts again, to the school cafeteria. It's the next day, and the cafeteria is packed full of students. Stiles follows Scott through the bustle, both carrying trays of food. "So the Argents killed his family?" Stiles whispers as they take their seats across one another.**

 **Scott sips his water, nodding. "Yeah, or at least he thinks that- I mean I know they're hunters and all but can they kill a whole pack of werewolves all at once? Couldn't the Hales have like escaped or something?"**

 **Stiles nods solemnly but then pauses going still. She looks up at Scott through thick lashes. "Not unless they couldn't get out," she finally says.**

 **"But how?"**

 **Stiles shrugs. "I don't know. But you're right. Scott I've seen the way you move. Your reflexes, your speed. A house full of experienced werewolves should have escaped a housefire."**

 **Scott frowns, but before he can say anything, Allison pops down into the seat beside him. She freets him with a peck to the cheek before passing a container to Stiles. The younger girl accepts it with a questioning gaze. "It's strawberry and chocolate gateau. My mom made it for desert last night and Scott mentioned that you would die to eat it. And I don't really like the idea of you dying for food, so..." Allison explains her kind gesture. Stiles leans over the table to hug her, babbling about how amazing Allison is and that she'll date her if Scott lets her go. Allison chuckles, stealing her boyfriend's chips. "So what were you guys talking about, before?"**

 **Stiles and Scott share a look. Scott makes fish faces, stuttering out: "Dinner last night."**

 **Allison winces, face flushing bashfully. "God, I'? so sorry about that again. My family can be-"**

 **"Murderous," Stiles mutters stealing one of Scott's chips also. The boy glares at her and the next thing they know, Allison's jumping in her seat, yelping. She glares at Scott, "Did you just kick me?"**

 **Scott flounders again, looking to Stiles for help. Rolling her eyes, she steps in, "No-uh that was me. I'm on a new medication and it's a side effect, you know, muscle spasms. She kicks Scott's shin hard. "Woops, sorry," she says unapologetically to an annoyed Scott. "But it should only last a few days."**

 **Allison's not sure whether to believe her, but them considering that this is Stiles, she accepts the half-assed explanation. "So-" Stiles begins tryingto steer the conversation, "Scott here was just telling me about how great your family was."**

 **"Oh please-" Allison huffs. "Well mom was okay but dad was, well being overprotecrive and tried to accuse Scott of taking drugs. Kate was okay too until the end when she tried to interrogate Scott."**

 **"Right, I heard about that... so your Aunt Kate, what's she like?"**

 **"Kate?"Allison pauses a moment to think about it. "Well she's pretty cool and funny. She's like my big sister more than my aunt," Allison describes.**

 **"How long she in town for?"**

 **Allison pouts her lips, brows creasing with thought. "Huh, not sure... I didn't even know she was coming back till the day before."**

 **"Coming back?"**

 **Scott nods in time with Allison. "Yeah, Allison told me she used to live here a while back."**

 **"Yeah my dad was here for a bit on business with my grandfather, but then got called back. Kate stepped in and took over, finishing business around here." Allison's too busy stealing another chip, to notice her boyfriend and his best friend exchanging questioning looks.**

 **"How long ago was that?" Stiles asks.**

 **Allison shrugs, "Five, maybe six years. Why?"**

 **"No reason. Thought maybe I'd have seen her around somewhere."**

 **Allison nods, buying the lie. She steals another chip, and this time Scott squawks at her for doing so, earning giggles from both girls. Clearing her throat, Allison turns her attention back to Stiles, a cheeky glint in her eye."**

"Here's where it gets super uncomfortable," Stiles warns.

 **"So Stiles... how was last night?"**

 **Stiles frowns bemusedly. She doesn't see the way Scott freezes with fear. "Last night?" she pouts.**

 **Allison hums, unable to hide her grin. "You know... you and Derek Hale."**

 **"Uh..."**

 **Allison giggles at Stiles' expression. "Relax Stiles, I won't tell anyone," she winks.**

 **"Won't tell anyone..."**

 **"Stiles it's fine. We've all been there. I dated a college junior last year for a bit."**

 **Scott's jaw drops, but for entirely different reasons to Stiles.**

 **"Dated?" Stiles squeaks.**

 **"You dated a junior in college," Scott shuffles in his seat feeling a little inadequate and not quite registering how much suffering and torture he's in for at Stiles' hands. Allison glances at Scott but pays him no heed, far more interested in the younger girl's silent panic. Stiles looks to be having stroke when suddenly she rounds on Scott hissing, "You told her I was dating Derek!?"**

 **"No-I-I didn't! She and I- and then you... with Derek... jeep," the boy with puppy eyes trails off feeling very fearful for his life.**

 **Allison reaches across the table, settling her hand on Stiles'. "Scott didn't tell me. I just guessed."**

 **"You just guessed?"**

 **"Yeah, you guys are pretty subtle though."**

 **"Oh my gawd!" Stiles moans, dropping her forehead onto the table.**


	6. AUTHOR's NOTE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **Hello wonderful readers. I'm really sorry to say, but this story has gone on hiatus long enough and unfortunately I've decided to discontinue it.**

 **I'm as upset as you are. Heartbroken really.**

 **Life has simply gotten in the way. Uni has been absolutely crazy, and I've been doing some soul-searching too (not to sound carried away). I always meant to come back to this and keep writing, and as much as I want to, I've lost interest to keep going. Writing a reaction piece is quite time consuming and honestly very exhausting to have to re-write the tv show plot to accommodate the female Stiles plot, on top of having to write everyone's reactions.**

 **I do love writing but writing this reaction piece simply doesn't inspire me anymore. I find myself wanting in my writing; I want to develop my writing skills and take on plots that focus more on character building (although that had been the intention of this fic).**

 **I'm considering writing original pieces but want to be able to have more time to dedicate towards those projects.**

 **I've also lately been drawn back to the MCU. Some years ago, I had several plots in mind, some crossovers, some not. As many of you can relate, I grew up with the MCU. They were a source of inspiration for me in wanting to begin some original works of my own in the future, as well as a source of inspiration and reflection of the social and political crises we are witnessing in our world today. After watching Endgame today, I think if I am to continue with fanfiction I want to go back to writing some MCU fics to help build on my own writing abilities, as I feel that style is more in-line with what I'd like to do.**

 **Life has also been rather hectic lately. As I've said before, there has been a lot of soul-searching in recent months. It might sound ridiculous, but I have gone through a bit of remodelling, mentally and physically. Trying to figure out who I am, what I want from life; adopting healthy practices of self-reflection to express my emotions, as well as weighing up my options for what direction I want my career to begin/take as I go into my final year of my degree.**

 **Again I am really sorry that this story has come to an early end. And I also apologise for my random spiel here, but I felt like I owed you guys an explanation, even if it was a poor one.**

 **On a side note, I wrote a Female Derek one-shot a few months back. It's a little bit more introspective, but for you Teen Wolf lovers, I hope y'all will check it out.**

 **Thank you for all your support. I hope you continue to follow and read my other projects should I continue to post.**

 **Cheers,**


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